


Converse High

by JupiterJoon



Series: Converse High Series [1]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Brief Violence, Bromance, Discussions of Homophobia, Drugs, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Everyone is broke or in college yep it's REALITY, Explicit Language, Fluff, Graduation, Grumpy Min Yoongi | Suga, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Jeon Jungkook is Whipped, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Platonic SOPE vibes, Producer Min Yoongi | Suga, RUN era style, Recreational Drug Use, Shy Jeon Jungkook, Slow Burn, and some discussions of drug dealing and territorial rights, side taejoon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 93,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JupiterJoon/pseuds/JupiterJoon
Summary: Some little shit keeps trying to sneak alcohol on Yoongi's shift.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga
Series: Converse High Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728229
Comments: 165
Kudos: 495





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, yep, I finally used a song title for a fanfiction.

Jungkook is and always will be a little shit.

Of course, Yoongi didn’t know his name is Jungkook… yet. Even in the beginning, he had a pretty good feeling he was going to get to know the kid at some point. Not because he was a regular customer at their superstore, and not because he happened to be incredibly cute, but because he and his brother with the perfect bone structure were testing their luck in Yoongi’s checkout line every Friday night. 

Yoongi doesn’t know if they actually are related. There’s no way they couldn’t be related. Two people that hot who look that similar can’t be unrelated.

Rarely does Yoongi get graced with such attractive customers in their superstore. The old supercenter sat on the divide of suburbia and urban life. It was one of those chain stores where, when people heard the name, they knew what part of town they were in. The crowd varied from those who thought pajamas were acceptable outerwear at 3pm and those who only owned short skirts and fishnets at 3am. Regardless of the area or reputation, the customers tend to stay in line. Yoongi doesn’t have to put in much effort to hawkeye shoplifting teens or fork over coupons to angry soccer moms.

But these two guys, they drew too much attention, even in day clothes. Their flannels and ripped jeans looked too expensive on their frames. One had shoulders so broad Yoongi wondered if he turned sideways to get in the sliding door (it stopped halfway, anyway). Even if Yoongi missed him coming in, he’d started to recognize his tittering throughout the store. The other had a thick neck and a strong gait, leaving Yoongi to wonder what he looked like under his baggy jacket.

And for people who drew so much attention, they thought they were sneaky. Just like tonight.

Yoongi slouches over the self-checkout stand. His ass is numb from sitting so long and the fraying edge of his blue vest aggravates his neck. His station consisted of 10 registers, all leading down to his shabby little stand and it’s rotating advertisements of cheese and bananas. The mere exercise of having to walk, validate IDs, or punch in malfunctioning barcodes is already too much for him.

But now, _now_ , his staff supervisor had insisted that active employees are more approachable for customers, so there’s a new policy for no-sitting-at-the-surveillance-register.

Well, fuck that. Yoongi’s determined to be as unapproachable as possible. In its own way, his grumpy expression and apathetic posture served its own purpose- fear. Making certain customers feared of trying to cross him or pull one over on him. In reality, Yoongi could not give less of a fuck. If someone put up any effort to cross him, he’d have to put in the effort, and that’s something he wants to avoid.

Almost every Friday night, Jungkook and his older brother test how much effort Yoongi feels like putting in.

Even on a Friday, the store is slow. Not many other customers provide a distraction for the two sneaky brothers. They took their time making jokes, picking out groceries, occasionally fighting over who could hold more melons, and then they parted ways. Parted ways like they assumed no one in the fucking store had just watched them turn the produce section into a makeshift CrossFit court.

A couple of full-grown teenagers is what they are. Well, at least one of them is a teen, because Jungkook would come up first, buy some groceries, then stand off to the side.

As usual, Yoongi raises his eyebrows as an attempt at “okay enjoy the rest of your day.” Jungkook smiles back shyly, bending his head ever so slightly as he moves to hang out by the lottery and cigarette counter. Whenever he pulls out his phone to appear distracted, Yoongi watches him. Watches the way the veins in his arms shifted as his thumb scrolled through the screen, the way the sides of his jeans would pull in protest as Jungkook crosses his legs, breathing a deep sigh (of nerves, Yoongi bets) which make the tips of his shaggy brown hair flip up.

Yoongi never feels bad for watching. He sees the way other girls in the store watch the boys and giggle. He’s attractive. And not just attractive, he’s Yoongi’s type. Taller, a sweet face. The baggy clothes let Yoongi’s mind implant his own ideal physique on the boy.

But recently, he’s felt bad for _how_ he watches Jungkook. Like he’s attainable. Like he wants him, because...

“Mr. Salesclerk, um, excuse me,” a soft voice calls. Yoongi glances back at the registers, making eye contact with the older brother. He doesn’t feel bad about getting caught staring. Mostly because he knows the brother assumes his gaze has other reasons. As in, “I know you are pulling a fast one” reasons.

Because Jungkook is clearly too young to drink, and his brother is sneaking alcohol. And Yoongi definitely does not have the hots for someone who can’t even hold a beer yet.

In this part of the country, if you want to buy alcohol, the staff has to check the IDs of the entire party buying alcohol. It helped cut back on the likelihood of minors paying others.

So these two found a not-so-subtle loophole. And somehow, they thought that Yoongi wouldn’t notice after they came in to do their little routine on almost all of his shifts for the last month.

Yoongi hoists himself out of the stool and over to the older brother. He smirks before stating, “Ah, it’s Seokjin, back for more alcohol.” Seokjin laughs nervously as usual. Yoongi plucks the ID from his hand and reads it for the fifth time before handing it back.

“Such a shame your friends always send you out to buy all this beer,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, making eye contact with Seokjin who laughs nervously yet again. “By yourself.” Seokjin rubs the back of his neck with a muttered _you know_.

Yoongi can’t believe the two boys still thought he cared enough. But he realizes their resolute fear of being caught outweighs their common sense, so Yoongi had started having more and more fun. Hinting that he knows what they’re up to. He made sure to give Jungkook a hard glance and Seokjin a devilish grin every now and then.

The younger boy sports a cheerful smile as Seokjin approaches, jumping a little as he followed behind him. How could he jump when he had half the store in his grocery bags? He gives a lazy wave to the pair as he plops down on the stool. Jungkook’s jacket today trims at the waist, and Yoongi gets a nice view of his back. Just his back. Nothing else or creepy that he shouldn’t be thinking. 

“Bye now!” Hope, his supervisor, calls to the pair as he practically hops on over to the registers. Yoongi lets out a very audible groan, ignoring the disappointed crease in Hope’s eyebrows as he skids to a stop, recognizing the contents of Seokjin’s bag.

Hope puts his hands on his hips. First, Hope notes the stool that Yoongi is not supposed to have. Next, he nods knowingly to the loop-hole duo. “Yoongi, I am always impressed at your ability to uphold the law.”

“And I’m impressed at your ability to enforce drug testing when you are the store’s drug dealer,” Yoongi grumbles back, draping his arms over the computer to support more of his weight. “And to think you could remove my sacred stool.”

Hope perches his elbow on the other side of the stand, face close to Yoongi’s. He lightly snuggles his nose into Yoongi’s forehead, who only gruffs in response. “We were young and cute like that once. Gotta let the kids live a little.”

“I know you may be a supervisor, but that guy is still probably older than us. Buying alcohol for his little brother.”

“His _cute_ little brother, am I right?” Hope lets out a barking laugh as Yoongi shove off the stand to start checking that all the registers are still in tiptop shape. Hope knows him too well. Yoongi teases them, but he couldn’t help keeping tabs on the only eye candy on shift.

Sometimes Jungkook came into the store by himself. It’s hard to recognize him when he does, but Yoongi spends so much time staring him down that he’d actually started to notice a few habits about the boy.

His gate had a certain kind of swag to it, heavily lifting from one foot to the next as his shoulders shifted. When he came in wearing his massive hoodies, he still reached his hand into his side pocket, holding onto the phone that was pumping music through his headphones. Plus, he only seemed to own one pair of once-red converses, the fabric faded and tearing.

The boy even runs in the converse. That has to be terrible for his feet. Jungkook comes into the store to buy Gatorade and runs right back out several times. If he jogs up to the register, he stares down at his watch to track his heart rate or whatever athletes do. On a good day, the long holes of his tank top would sway, allowing Yoongi the tiniest glimpse of that gawk-worthy chest.

Honestly, the fact that Yoongi knows so many things about Jungkook made him realize he worked way too fucking much and really needed his career to take off soon.

And of course, there’s the biggest giveaway whenever Yoongi sees the guy face-front.

The eyes.

Those big brown orbs that always looked a little nervous even when he was just there to buy fabric softener. Whenever Yoongi had to come over and type in a crumpled up coupon, the boy never had the courtesy to smile afterward. Yoongi couldn’t complain because he barely even said bye to the boy. But, he loves seeing those big round eyes, not even scrunched up into a smile like whenever Seokjin successfully “deceives” Yoongi each weekend. That smile seems to only appear for Seokjin.

Yoongi wants to know how he could make him smile.

Just because, you know. It gets boring at work.

“Hey,” Yoongi comments one day. Jungkook’s wide eyes bore into his, an unnecessary fear flickering int he dark brown pools. Yoongi chuckles, twisting the heel of his shoe on the bar of the stool. “We have the same shoes.”

Jungkook looks down immediately, bouncing onto his tiptoes. Grey converse to match his faded red ones.

When Jungkook looks back up, Yoongi’s brain stutters a bit.

The biggest, cheesy smile stretched from ear to ear. His scrunched nose and buck teeth make him look like a bunny. And even younger, like a sweet child who’d been complimented by an adult. Yoongi’s brain kicks back into gear, and he shrugs, adjusting his ragged, blue vest.

He’d finally seen that smile front on. And goddammit, now he wanted more.

Luckily, his chance came sooner than expected, and not with much time to prepare his heart. Everything changed that day. The cogs of the machine started to turn.

After a mild summer, the fall air left it warm enough for Hope and Yoongi to walk to the store from their shared apartment, as long as they got off shift to walk back together late at night. Since Yoongi lives with his boss, it doesn’t make it too hard to manipulate the schedule (Something Hope loves to throw around in other, more obnoxious situations). 

On this day, Hope teased Yoongi about how cute he looks after his nap, hair too mussed to walk into work. There’s a slight breeze, carrying the scent of cooler air and dead leaves. As they round the shopping center to get tot he staff entrance, Hope playfully pretends to pluck at Yoongi’s hair, and Yoongi lets him. Somehow, Hope’s energy spread over Yoongi rather than leaving his nerves jarred. That’s his typical response to loud people, like Taehyung, who is crouched to the ground with a sketchpad, slowly swiping a pen back and forth.

Taehyung is like no one Yoongi would ever choose to hang out with. Loud, giggly, a complete airhead who somehow picked up on every annoying detail of a social situation. But Taehyung and Yoongi had gone to the same high school. They naturally drifted towards each other when they both moved to the same city. Especially since Taehyung became a regular client of Hope’s side-gig. Honestly, half the staff at the store started out as Hope’s weed clients. Like he weeded out (pun intended) who would be good employees through his alternative clientele.

Taehyung’s mouth was open, eyelashes moving up and down as he glanced from the pad to the ground in deep concentration. His silver-dyed hair bounces with each dart of focus. Hope and Yoongi stand over him, trying to figure out what he’s up to this time.

“... You’re drawing… a three-day-old candy wrapper?” Hope says, cocking his head as he looks down at the boy. Taehyung’s concentration breaks and a big, boxy grin beams up at the two older boys. Hope ruffles his hair and Taehyung giggles, biting his bottom lip.

“I was guessing more like seven. There’s something desperate about it. Forlorn…” Taehyung sets his sketchbook down, plopping his chin in his palm as he studies it.

“Pretty sure trash always feels that way,” Yoongi shrugs. He sees nothing forlorn in the smashed up Snickers wrapper. But he knows Taehyung could see something in anything. Obnoxiously so whenever Yoongi wants to throw anything away instead of donating it. In fact, Yoongi can guarantee the stylish silk shirt Taehyung dons is most likely from a garage sale.

“You’d know,” Hope bursts out laughing.

“No, no!” Taehyung tries to bring the focus back into his art project. “Like, for instance,” he closes his eyes and Yoongi knows what’s coming. When they open again, he looks parched, thrusting his jaw forward. “What’s…. This? A wrapper? Maybe there’s something left.” Taehyung slowly reaches forward before using his other hand to take his own wrist, turning away. “No! I haven’t stooped this low yet. I have faith! Someone will rescue me!” Tae brings his hands to his chest and looks up to the sky, somehow through Hope and Yoongi towering over him. “I can make it, to civilization, I will not be weak! I-”

Hope and Yoongi both pass through the door at this point. “Guys! My monologue!” Taehyung whines as he picks up the sketchbook and skips after them. 

Once inside, Hope waves goodbye to make his usual, sunshiney hello’s to the staff and to also let them know that he’s here... and watching.

“Oh!” Taehyung throws his arms over Yoongi, bringing Yoongi to a full stop. “Jungkookie is here!” Yoongi follows Taehyung’s (unnecessarily close) gaze over the throng of customers milling through the toy section, down a couple of aisles for anyone familiar.

It’s the kid. In his usual, (unnecessarily distracting) gym clothes.

“You know him?” Yoongi splutters.

“You know him?” Taehyung parrots. Taehyung’s head tilts toward his in surprise. Yoongi suddenly feels rather hot. He jolts Taehyung off his shoulders and tries to shake out his unkempt hair.

“I work here 6 days a week at the register, so I know a lot of the customers,” Yoongi explains before making a beeline for said registers. He tries to avoid eye-contact with the now-named Jungkook, who walks his way. Yoongi bobs his head in acknowledgment as he wooshes passed him.

The kid _jogs_ over to Taehyung. Figures. Taehyung knows all the hot people, being hot himself. Lucky for him, that good face anchored down his airhead.

When Yoongi gets to the register, he turns to survey the store. Just survey it. And Taehyung and Jungkook happen to be in a pretty open lane near his register, so he just happens to linger there a bit longer to... survey their surroundings.

Jungkook knows Taehyung. Taehyung can drink. Maybe he’s older. Or maybe he’s one of those kids who is actually older in his soul than his real age. Like Yoongi. Maybe they’re alike.

“Maybe it doesn’t fucking matter,” Yoongi grumbles out loud to himself.

Jungkook smiles some dumb smile at Taehyung. As he laughs at Taehyung’s apparent reenactment of his candy wrapper inspiration, his eyes disappear into the creases of joy covering his face. Yoongi’s mouth twitches upwards. Taehyung wraps his arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, Jungkook patting Tae’s back as he catches his breath from laughing. Yoongi’s fingers twitch, too.

“Oh hey, Tae knows the scammer!” Yoongi practically jumps out of his skin when Hope squeezes Yoongi’s side to signal his presence.

“Fuck!” He shouts, whipping around to Hope, then quickly whipping his head around the whole store at the fact that he’d just shouted ‘fuck’, even though the manager was the cause of his expletive.

When his eyes find Tae and Jungkook again, Tae has that big, boxy grin on his face, and Jungkook looks pointedly away, inspecting the label of his Gatorade. Taehyung places his hand to Jungkook’s ear and whispers something. Jungkook quickly stomps toward the registers. Yoongi swallows, not sure what to do. He looks aggressive, and it’s unbecoming of his soft features. Jungkook looks like he’s counting floor tiles as he approaches, brow furrowed, tongue tucked in his cheek.

It’s… kind of hot.

But when Jungkook pays for the Gatorade, he makes sure to walk purposively to checkout, where Hope stands smiling brightly as he nods with the receipt in hand. Yoongi watches him from his stool at self-checkout, not sure why he’s aggravated by Jungkook’s refusal to acknowledge him. Part of Jungkook’s unspoken job is to avoid Yoongi.

Whatever, Yoongi thinks. It doesn’t matter. Just another cute guy. Just another shift.

* * *

“I’m having a party and you all should come,” Taehyung shouts as he bursts through the break room door the next day. Yoongi continues stirring his coffee while Hoseok launches out of his chair in fright.

“What did we say about slamming doors?” Hope shouts, gracing Taehyung with one of his rare yet terrifying glares. Taehyung almost walks back out the door but his excitement has him delicately clicking the door closed.

“No slamming doors. No loud sudden expressions of joy,” Taehyung tags on as he takes a seat at the shabby table. Though they all call it a break room, it in fact is a tiny old office with one table, Yoongi’s mini-fridge from college, and a potted plant one of the older employees brought in to “liven up the place.” Taehyung flips his chair around and rests his head on his arms, smiling at Yoongi.

“No,” Yoongi says into his coffee. Glancing at the wall, he wonders why Taehyung thinks it’s appropriate to talk to him before 10 am in the morning. He then wonders why he is friends with someone who would schedule him to work before 10 am in the morning.

Taehyung pouts. “Hyung, it’s a housewarming party. I need you to come.”

“Can I just give you a frying pan and get on with it?” Yoongi grumbles before Hope wraps an arm around him. Yoongi grunts but doesn’t shake him off. The hug warms him from the chill they walked here in.

“We will be there,” Hope beams. Taehyung’s smile widens as it always does when he looks at Hope. Yoongi flings his stick out of his coffee and takes a loud sip.

“Jimin’s gonna be there?” Yoongi asks. Taehyung’s roommate also worked at the store, of course. Though it felt more like Taehyung and Jimin just hung out in the electronic section rather than actually worked. They had friends stop by, played their own shows on the big screens, bumped whatever album just dropped on the speakers.

“Of course! And some of our other friends you may know,” Taehyung winks, springing from the chair. Yoongi watches him leave just as fast as he came. There went his one minute to enjoy his coffee.

Yoongi throws back the black coffee and heads out the door. He isn’t exactly looking for Jungkook, he is never actually in the store at this time, not that Yoongi is keeping track, but he can never be sure. Ever since that time he showed up to see Taehyung, Yoongi finds himself checking more often.

No Jungkook comes in that day before Yoongi clocks out. He manages to sneak in a nap before Hope comes barrelling through the door, dragging him to a different, nice supercenter to buy a housewarming gift.

They do end up buying frying pans.

Not that surprising, Taeyhung and Jimin’s apartment is incredibly aesthetic. But with their thriftiness, Yoongi believes that most of the furniture came from Habitat House and Goodwill. Yoongi is also impressed that almost all the staff of their supermarket makes an appearance. Then again, Taehyung had promised free beer at one point.

Someone had hit the switch shortly after Hoseok and he had walked in, leaving the place to be lit by Christmas lights of every color strung across the living room ceiling. Yoongi stares at the ground as he moves between the spare bedroom and the living room. The music is subdued, but somehow still louder than the chatter floating through the apartment. Yoongi would complain, but Taehyung had loaded all of Yoongi’s SoundCloud into the playlist. The kid’s obnoxious, but he might be Yoongi’s number one fan. 

Yoongi wanders through the party. Among the card chairs, sofas, and bar stools, the places left to sit are few. Eyeing an opened spot on the couch, he deftly maneuvers through a group of giggling girls to slide right in before anyone can snag it. He takes a deep breath, finally able to rest.

Setting his beer on the floor, Yoongi notices the person next to him is wearing the same gray converses.

“Nice shoes,” he comments in an attempt to make small talk. The shoe is attached to thick thighs squished against his own. The black fabric seems to strain over the muscle, just like--

Jungkook’s thick thighs, which he’d only seen at a distance, now visibly clenching underneath the jean fabric. Yoongi’s eyes darted up instantly, and he knows the surprise is written on his face.

As fast as he’d sat down, Yoongi flinches into the arm of the couch. “Woah, sorry, didn’t see you there…” He rubs the back of his neck as he looks up nervously, only to see Jungkook looking much more nervous. His eyes are wider than normal, knuckles white around his beer. His eyes flick between Yoongi’s draining smile and the beer clutched in his hand. Slowly, an incredibly awkward smile and a pathetic choking sound came from Jungkook.

“He-Hello,” Jungkook puts the beer in between his thighs. Yoongi follows the beer but stays for the thighs. “Fancy seeing you here...?” He waits a bit, Yoongi guesses for him to say his name.

Oh, he should probably tell him.

“Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy who knows you are so busted,” he sets his jaw hard as he glares at Jungkook, who almost makes to sprint off the couch before lowering his head. With his face tucked down, his cheeks look even rounder under the mop of hair on his head.

“I-I’m sorry… I know we’ve been fooling you and-” Yoongi couldn’t hold his laughter in as he watches Jungkook fiddle his fingers. A puff then a bark of laughter and then all the giggles follow as Yoongi’s authoritarian character breaks. Jungkook’s eyebrows draw up in concern as he desperately to read the situation.

“Look, kid, it’s fine. You think I don’t know what’s up?: Yoongi flashes a big gummy smile as Jungkook’s brain processed what’s happening. “And you think it’d still be happening if I cared? You and your brother are too dramatic.” Yoongi takes a swig of his drink and holds it out to clink with Jungkook’s.

“Wait,” Jungkook says, barely audible over the party chatter. He still reaches out to clink beers, then reaches out again with an accusing finger. “You stared me down all those times and you were never going to do anything? You were terrifying! I tried so hard to keep my cool!” Jungkook wails, taking another swig of beer before flopping back on the sofa.

Yoongi laughs harder, glad his little boredom-filled plan had worked. And that Jungkook didn’t realize exactly _how_ he’d been staring at him.

“Too much to pass up, kid,” Yoongi leans into the armrest, facing Jungkook who nervously laughs still. The kid still twiddles his fingers. “Why are you so jittery?”

“What?” Jungkook jumps a bit, turning to look at Yoongi. In the dim, smokey lights of the house, Jungkook looks older. His jaw refracts in shadows as he clenches it. His arm thrown over the armrest has taut muscles that show when he grips the back of the sofa. His hair’s styled, something Yoongi never sees. He looks… well, he looks intimidating. 

Except for those big eyes. “I… I think…” Jungkook looks at Yoongi before drinking his beer again. Boy, maybe they bought all that beer for him. “I think you look really cool.”

Yoongi feels his face fall a bit, lip pulling up in a confused sneer. The cockiness of having the upper hand fades. This cute kid told Yoongi something he never expected to hear from someone who only ever sees him in a superstore vest. “You… what?”

Jungkook shrugs. His hands stop fidgeting, but he starts rubbing his feet over each other. “You’re cool. Your hair. Your aesthetic.” He waves the empty beer cup around like he’s conducting his thoughts. “And Tae said you are really chill. But…” he trails off before jumping back in. “But you looked so scary at that supermarket counter!” He throws his hands up and Yoongi finds his ground again, resetting his grip around the condensating bottle in his hand.

“Half the time, I am asleep at that supermarket counter. I scared you and your brother because I had nothing else to do,” Yoongi shrugs again. As he stretches his legs out, his nonchalance starts to feel the slightest bit forced. Especially when he sees the faintest smile grace Jungkook’s lips. The closest he’s come to victory since deciding he wanted to make Jungkook smile again.

“Well, I knew you couldn’t be all that bad, since Tae told us to come on your shift,” Jungkook mutters. Yoongi stops bringing his beer to his lips and blinks a few times.

“Tae told you to come on my shift?” He tries to sound calm.

“Yeah, he said you were super chill, remember? That it wouldn’t be an issue to buy beer while you were working. But when Jin and I saw you and you got this mean glare it actually is really cool-” Yoongi stands.

The fuck is that obnoxious brat?

“Oh yeah, I’m super chill. Really chill,” Yoongi rolls his shoulders, shaking out his large hands as he clenches them. “Hey, Taehyung!” He calls through the party. “Tae!”

A hand raises in the air above the party goers, a mild shout heard as the hand bobs and weaves between crowded bodies. Tae wedges between Yoongi and some girls talking behind them.

“Oh hey, you met Jungkook! I told him you were su-”

“Super chill, I heard,” Tae’s smile slips at the ice in Yoongi’s voice. His hands come in close to his chest as Yoongi glares up at him. Goddamn, this hot, beanstalk of a kid. “So chill, that people can walk over me. Is this some metaphorical short joke for you?” Yoongi inches closer. Taehyung’s mouth bobs as he seeks out an excuse.

“No, Hyung, I mean, you are cool and-” Taehyung doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Yoongi takes another step forward. Taehyung steps to the side, trips on a girl’s foot, and tumbles into Jungkook who somehow manages to catch him, cradling him in his lap.

“You are really an asshole, you know that? What would have happened if they got caught on my shift? I woulda been fucked, you woulda been fucked, they woulda been fucked,” Yoongi waved his hands at all the culprits.

Tae looks up at him, mouth dropped in shock, but it slowly shifts into awe. He stares up at Jungkook who holds him up. “See, I told you he was cool,” he whisper-yells.

Jungkook’s terrified expression slowly begins to ease, and he laughs. Jungkook is laughing. He’s crowding around Taehyung in his lap, but when his gaze shifts to Yoongi, he keeps laughing, even as he tries to bite his lip down and hold it in.

And Yoongi starts laughing because he loves Jungkook’s laugh. He decides now it may sound better than anything he’ll ever produce.

And Tae laughs as he slides out of Jungkook’s lap, passed Yoongi, and back into the safety of the crowd.

Yoongi’s taken in by the way Jungkook’s entire face lights up in the dark, how his shoulders scrunch into his ears, how his laughter seems to take over his entire form. And he’s so entranced, he doesn’t feel the presence of Jimin behind him.

“It’s been a while, Yoongi,” Jimin purrs into Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi’s trying to fight his way out of Jimin’s arms before he’s even got them locked around his waist. He turns to face the younger man who leans in again. “Thanks for coming,” he giggles, smile erasing his eyes.

“Taehyung said free booze,” Yoongi excuses, prying the hands off him. Not that he missed seeing everyone or anything. 

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Boy, do I know it,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “That’s who I’m looking for. He’s hiding from me and I heard his voice over here.” Jungkook and Yoongi point in the direction Tae fled. Jimin giggles, nodding in thank you as he sneaks through the crowd after his nefarious roommate.

Jungkook and Yoongi stare after their direction, but not for too long. The open seat next to Jungkook could fill up fast, and Yoongi snatches it back up.

Only because he wants to sit, of course.

“Oh hey,” Yoongi notices something tucked into the couch on the other side of Jungkook. “That your camera?”

Jungkook picks it up, settling it comfortably in his lap. “Yep, kinda like my side thing.” He gives a shy smile. Damn, two smiles in one night.

“What do you like to shoot?” Yoongi asks, taking a sip to not seem too interested.

“Mostly portraits. But I actually do a lot of filming with this thing. I’ve done some tonight,” Jungkook nods towards the projection of photos and short videos playing on the wall. Yoongi noticed it when he came in, but now he takes a better look. It’s a sheet hung on the wall, the projector somewhere behind them. Videos and photos alternate on-screen of Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and some other people Yoongi doesn’t know. The music playing seems to fit whatever is happening on the screen.

“Taehyung picked this song. It has a real good vibe, made it easy to edit,” Jungkook smiles as he and Taehyung pop up on the screen from a few years ago.

“That’s pretty cool,” Yoongi hums. Jungkook nods, looking at his camera screen. The lights reflect back in his wide eyes. Angled down, his cheeks fell into a natural pout.

“Hey,” Jungkook says. Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Oh, um, Tae told me one of the songs I heard earlier was you.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “Probably,” he growls. “I do some stuff on the side, but I mostly produce.”

Jungkook nods, smiling at the screen. Is that smile for him? Or his song? A smile either way. The boys appear on the beach, standing around a black truck. That thing probably shouldn’t be in the sand.

“This song is mine,” Yoongi nods at the screen, taking a sip. For just an instant, the smile turns towards him. Jungkook swivels between the screen to Yoongi about four or five times.

“You composed this?” he asks, finger jabbing at the screen. Yoongi nods, smiling a little with a shrug of his shoulders. He can’t help getting a bit giddy at praise from such a-- guy. Just another average guy who is most likely way too young, he reminds himself.

Jungkook fumbles with the camera suddenly, pointing it at Yoongi. Yoongi holds his drink in front of his face but doesn’t make it in time before the flash. Yoongi cuts Jungkook a look.

“Tae and Jimin asked for photos,” Jungkook stumbles out, a strange, choked laugh coming from his throat. Shit, Yoongi made him uncomfortable. They both look forward, watching as Taehyung choke-holds Jimin on screen for a minute

Yoongi can feel eyes on him, Jungkook looking at Yoongi then down at his camera.

“What?” Yoongi asks.

“I wanna take pictures of you,” as soon as he says it, Jungkook rolls both his lips in between his teeth. He looks so young again.

Yoongi coughs, setting down his beer. What’s the harm? They’ll only end up maybe projecting on the wall of this shitty apartment. “Um, okay,” he answers.

“Tae said you’d say no,” Jungkook says in awe, adjusting the lens.

Yoongi feels his cheeks heat, settling for a stoic look. “Tae’s a fucking dumbass.”

Jungkook laughs behind his camera lens, a bit more natural. Yoongi can’t help but follow the way his fingers wrap around the lens, his forearm balancing the focus.

“That’s true.” Yoongi doesn’t hear anything snap this time, but Jungkook lowers the camera and looks. He still has his lips between his teeth.

“Is it bad?” Yoongi scoots a bit closer.

“Huh?” Jungkook hiccups, clutching the camera closer.

“Oh shit, is this like, an artist thing? I can’t look?” Yoongi leans back. Jungkook shakes his head wildly. He turns the camera to Yoongi. His cheeks are puffy from the alcohol, but overall, the smokiness and lighting of the apartment make it look cool. “Oh, that’s dope.”

Jungkook just nods again a few times, putting the camera back down. They watch the screen again. It’s pleasant, Yoongi thinks. Everyone’s loud with laughter bursting from different parts of the couch, but he found a place he can sit quietly and enjoy the view.

“Do you hang out with Tae and Jimin a lot?” Jungkook asks after a moment or two.

“No,” Yoongi answers.

Jungkook looks over then back at his camera. “Oh, that’s cool.”

“Not really?” Yoongi questions.

Jungkook nods again. “Yeah, not really.”

Yoongi leans back, sighing. “But I mean, Tae and I tend to work at the same times.” He has no idea why he felt compelled to tell Jungkook this.

“Yeah?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah,” Yoongi thinks he sounds like an idiot.

Jungkook stands, smoothing his hands over his jeans. “I’m going to get another beer, can I get you one?”

“Oh,” Yoongi starts, staring at his half-full beer. “Sure,” he still says.

“Yoongi!” Hope suddenly appears, wrapping his arms around Yoongi from behind the couch. Yoongi reaches up to pat his arm. His whole body feels warm. Yep, he must have had enough to drink. “Yoongi, take me home!” Hope pouts, nestling into Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi looks up at Jungkook apologetically as he unhooks Hope’s arms. Jungkook nods frantically, stepping back and swerving before he plows into someone. Yoongi pauses.

He didn’t even get to say bye before the kid ran off. Rude.

Yoongi’s quiet as Hope tells him not twice but three times how nice the party was on the walk back. He thinks about how he and Jungkook had sat in silence a couple of times. How Jungkook looked like a man, how he smiled softly at his video on the screen. How they’d sat in comfortable silence several times.

“I think I like that Jungkook kid,” Yoongi sighs as Hope rambles on about some pun Seokjin told. Fuck, he likes that Jungkook kid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mixed signals and mixed feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got smut, y'all. I would like to say thank you to everyone who commented on part 1. Y'all are the reason I kept going. I've never had that much feedback before and I understand how motivating it can be now ^_^

Today is a rare and beautiful afternoon. No work. It’s too rainy outside to feel guilty about staying in. Yoongi’s too stalled on his music work to do anything about it.

Which means he has time for not one, but two of his favorite things:

Napping and masturbating.

Yoongi stretches out in the large, lumpy loveseat in his room. He kicks his legs over one side and stares at the ceiling, relishing his luck and listening to the rain ting off the drainpipe next to his window.

Hope hums to himself in the kitchen. He’s still home, Yoongi scowls. Not that he can’t masturbate when he’s home alone, but Hope has a tendency to burst into his room at the worst moment. Only two months ago, Hope heard “strange sounds” coming from Yoongi’s room and flung the door open to Yoongi’s pants around his ankles.

Headphones would be an even worse idea because then he wouldn’t hear if Hope came barging in. Nope, Yoongi’s stuck with his good old imagination.

Not that he minds, but lately, his imagination has been… distracted. By a certain doe-eyed customer. Who looked incredibly hot in tight black jeans. And had arms that flexed each time he adjusted the camera to focus on Yoongi. The veins had rolled across his forearm as his wrist twisted with the lens. His other hand gripped the side of the camera, holding it steady. Such a skilled motion, his body working in sync while all his focus burrowed into the image of the tiny lens, which pointed at Yoongi.

Well, fuck. Yoongi groans as he rests a palm over his groin. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he scolds himself. He’s already hard and he’s just recalling the memory of a photo-op.

He shouldn’t do this. He’s going to have to see this kid. Every Friday. He can’t jerk off to the idea of his hands. They look a little smaller than Yoongi’s. Would they feel smaller wrapped around his dick? They had such a delicate, precise hold as Jungkook tilted the camera, his forefinger straightening the lens. Would he be so precise as he stroked Yoongi? Would he twist a bit, focus in like a work of art? Yoongi snakes his hand beneath his sweats, gripping lightly, imagining the slight twist. That small moment in his memory that now stands out, repeating. 

Closing his eyes, the jerk of his wrist mimics the twist of Jungkook’s hand. He imagines Jungkook leaning in closer, grabbing the lens with his whole hand. Setting the camera down, smiling at him the way he did that one time when he mentioned the converse. Fuck, that tank top had such a deep cut. All that golden skin on display, even more when Jungkook bent to pick up his grocery bags.

Shit, those cases of Gatorade seemed so light, the toned definition of his biceps on display. When he jerked off Yoongi, would he be so light with his touch? Or would his muscles flex and contract as he steadily worked Yoongi up, like he does to himself now?

And… would he kiss him? Yoongi chews on his lip to keep from grunting too loud. Jungkook’s soft face looks like he’d kiss so gently. So shy and hesitant. Yoongi could take the lead. Jungkook would surely follow. God, what if Jungkook kissed him? Those soft pink lips on his own with a strong grip on him as Yoongi writhes beneath him.

“Fuck,” Yoongi practically chokes out as he shudders, spilling all over his hand. His orgasm pulls him from his fantasy, the head of his cock sensitive to the now soiled sweats rubbing against it. He strokes lazily, brought back to the reality of his own fist on himself.

Yoongi finally opens his eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’d done it. Totally jerked off to the little shit of a customer. He heaves himself off the loveseat, runs his clean hand through his damp hair. “You fucking idiot,” he murmurs to himself. He grimaces when he waddles to his bedroom door, pants sticky. He snags a pair of basketball shorts hanging on the corner of his bed.

“Yoongo Boongo!” Hope calls as soon as he opens the door. Yoongi’s eyes dart to his sweats, thankfully black and nothing too noticeable. Hope stretches out on the couch in the living room, bong and various boxes littering the coffee table. “What’s your plan for the evening?”

“Nap,” Yoongi grumbles, heading to the bathroom. He cleans up, changes into the shorts, and ruffles his hair in the mirror. His cheeks are still flushed, but he can feel the sleepiness settling in his bones. When he heads back to his room, Hope has the bong set up and ready to go.

“Expecting company?” Yoongi asks, hoping the answer is no. He loves Hope, really and truly, but the man is so loud, there’s no way he’ll nap if Jimin or Tae swing by. No matter who it is, if Hope is involved, anything seems to escalate into a hype session. Jimin and Taehyung are the most common culprits and quite possibly the most dangerous. They are their own hype team in general.

“Yup!” Hope bounces off the couch. He slides passed Yoongi to the bathroom. “Answer if they knock?” Hope asks, closing the door. Then he adds a “please?” knowing that Yoongi will pretend not to hear.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, just yawns and heads back to his room. He’s getting ready to tuck into his pillow when he hears a knock at the door. He perks up, waiting a bit to see if Hope gets the door. No luck. Someone knocks again.

Yoongi shuffles off the bed, throwing on one of the many hoodies on his desk chair.

He yawns again, lamenting his choice to not watch porn since Hope didn’t even hear the knock and swings open the door.

His chosen, alternative fantasy stands before him.

The doorknob slips from Yoongi’s grip when Jungkook appears. He’s even wearing the same clothes from last night, meaning the same clothes from Yoongi’s fantasy. He juts out his jaw, hoping to stall any facial expression that might reveal his utter surprise and embarrassment.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is not doing such a good job. His eyes are wide, posture shooting rigid when he sees Yoongi at the door. He almost… did he almost salute? Instead, his arm rubs the back of his head, a nervous smile on his face.

“Oh, um, I’m looking for Hope,” Jungkook stumbles out. His voice is softer than Yoongi expected. He’d heard it last night blended in with the clatter of the party. It matched his face more than his body, which still looks fantastic in day-old clothes.

“He lives here,” Yoongi states, trying to stay focused on Jungkook’s face, which is hard when Jungkook keeps looking away.

“That I do!” Yoongi’s shoulders bump his ears when Hope pipes up behind him. Hope laughs, curling his arms around Yoongi for support. Jungkook’s eyes dart to Hope and back to Yoongi. “He’s filming a dance video for me!”

Yoongi turns, watching Hope sit back on the couch in the living room. He’s in a gray puma fit, hair curled and split nicely to emphasize his strong cheekbones. So that’s what he was up to in the bathroom. 

“How do you know he does videos?” Yoongi asks, annoyed at how defensive he sounds. But Hope starts fiddling with the bong again, undeterred.

“At the party yesterday,” Hope notes, stretching his back. He smiles over at Jungkook who still stands in the hall. “Jimin introduced us.”

“You talked?” Something makes Yoongi a little jealous he’s not the only one who learned little secrets about a regular customer.

“Um…” Hope cocks his head, and Yoongi regrets giving him any reason for suspicion. “Yes?” Hope ditches the bong and starts to busy himself with a grinder. “Wanna smoke first?” He asks when Jungkook stands in the doorway still.

Jungkook just nods and squeezes past Yoongi. He takes a seat in the chair, arms tucked between his thighs. He clears his throat when Yoongi takes a seat next to Hope.

This isn’t fair. Yoongi didn’t have time to prepare to face the guy he shamelessly used to get off. Thank god he’s in a sweatshirt and Yooni can’t see his arms. But oh god, he looks adorable in that black sweater swamping him.

“You two… live together?” Jungkook asks, not taking his eyes off where Hope sprinkles the weed into a paper.

Hope pauses to cling to Yoongi’s shoulders again. Yoongi tucks his lips in protest but doesn’t shrug him off. As always. “We’re inseparable!” Hope smiles. “It surprises people, but opposites attract, right?” Hope jostles Yoongi while Yoongi tries to shake him off.

“Oh,” Jungkook responds, shuffling a bit in his seat. Yoongi watches him, but he never looks at Yoongi. Not that he minds, Yoongi might turn bright red if he does. Jungkook looks just as uncomfortable. Now that Yoongi thinks about it, the kid might be pretty shy.

Oh shit, the _kid_.

“How o--” Yoongi stops himself before he starts. Is he seriously going to ask how old he is just to validate the fact that he fantasized about him? He’s too young for alcohol, but he looks too old to be _too_ young.

And now they are both staring at him. And “o” doesn’t sound enough like “are you” so he might as well ask. “How old are you?”

Hope snickers, flicking a lighter to the joint between his lips. “What, think we need to ID him before he smokes up?”

“I-” wait, that’s a good idea. “Maybe,” Yoongi tries to tease, the laugh he forces a little too loud.

Jungkook takes the joint, his lip jutted out in a tiny pout. “I’m old enough,” he affirms. As if to prove a point, he sucks in a deep breath. His chest pumps forward than back down as the smoke billows out of his nose. A strong nose on such a sweet face. What a fucking conundrum of a human being.

Yoongi wants to press it, but he doesn’t want to be weird. He just tries to take the joint from Jungkook’s hand without really looking at it. Fuck, he needs a nap. He takes a long drag, letting the smoke burn his throat and sting his tongue. He falls back against the couch, exhaling the smoke above him.

“What’s old enough?” 

“Oooh, Yoongi,” Hope giggles. Yoongi stiffens when Hope's hand claps on his knee. Did he say that out loud? “Still tiffed about sneaking alcohol?” 

Yoongi just closes his eyes. He’s making this situation worse for himself. So instead of speaking, he just knocks his knees together. And realizes it’s still a little damp around his groin, and feels a lot more than his throat burning now.

Everything’s quiet for a bit. Hope and Jungkook continue to pass the blunt back and forth while Yoongi wonders how he managed to make his own life this difficult, and if Hope would put up a fight if he just went to his room and face-planted on his pillow.

“So Jimin said you are childhood friends, is that how you met Taehyung?” Hope says after a bit. Yoongi’s ears perk up.

“Mm,” Jungkook hums, a sloppy smile plastered on his face. “Taehyung and I had art history together.”

“So you’re in college?” Hope asks. Yoongi can hear him packing things up. And he can also hear the slight sing-songy tone to Hope’s words. Like he’s teasing Jungkook.

But he’s not.

Hope knows exactly what he’s doing for Yoongi’s benefit and he’s letting him know in that only-best-friends-can-be-this-annoying-way that he’s asking for Yoongi.

“Mhm,” the sound thick with cannabis as Jungkook heaves out of the chair. “Marketing. But I’m filling my electives with photography.”

Yoongi feels the relief seep into his bones. College. Legal. That means he’s in the clear. He could totally dream about Jungkook. Actually do it with Jungkook.

Yoongi tucks his lips in to avoid anything spilling out of his mouth. But it does nothing to calm his hazy daydreams. Man, he looked great in those black pants. Would they peel down his legs, or slide off easy? Shit, what if he shaves? All that smooth skin...

Yoongi nearly ricochets off the couch when Hope’s hand clamps on his thigh again and shakes him. Hope bounces away with a giggle before Yoongi can claw at him.

“Be back later!” Hope calls out when Yoongi grimaces at him. He turns to Jungkook and nods his head in the direction of the door. As they head out, Jungkook turns back to Yoongi, mouth open, but he just waves and follows Hope out the door.

When the door closes, Yoongi rolls over on the couch. He rubs his face into a throw pillow, curling the rest of his body up. Now he really wants to go to sleep.

* * *

Working Friday nights is the worst. No matter what kind of job you have or what kind of life you live, a Friday night is and always will be considered a day you should have off. TV has ingrained in everyone this idea that it’s the end of the week. And honestly, Yoongi agrees. There should be a universal night for everyone to do nothing. Capitalist propaganda could finally be put to use to make any rough week seem worthwhile for a good time. Either party, sleep, whatever. It’s what everyone really wants to be doing. Yoongi’s discussed with Hope several times that if something like The Purge actually existed, people would be more likely to shoplift and steal food rather than run around and murder people. 

And now, since Hope can give himself Friday nights off, Yoongi has this conversation with himself, ass numb on his stool, while he and Taehyung finish closing down the registers for the night.

Yoongi shoves the last drawer shut and stretches. His muscles feel tight from slouching over the counter all day. “Alright,” he calls to Taehyung. “All the TVs off?”

The silver-headed boy bounds out from behind the electronics with two thumbs up.

“Check.”

“All the phones charging?”

“Check.”

“Relocked all the cabinets?”

“Ch-” shoes clap against the floor. “Check!” Taehyung calls from farther away.

Finally. They can finally go home.

As Tae jogs closer, he veers to the bathrooms. “Lemme go to the bathroom before we lock up.”

“Okay,” Yoongi positions himself like a first baseman. “Throw me the keys.”

Tae stops. He also holds his hands out. “You mean you’ll throw me the keys?”

They both stand there, in the alley before the check out counters, hands outstretched to catch keys.

“Fuuuuck,” Yoongi draws out. 

“No one has keys,” Taehyung states, mouth hanging open.

“Correct-o-moondo.”

Taehyung crumbles to the floor, kicking his sliders off. “No! It’s going to be forever ‘til we get home!”

Yoongi sits back on his chair. It looks like he still has time to keep it warm. “Hope has our keys and he’s out of town for a show this week.”

“Jimin has mine,” Taehyung wails from the floor. He sprawls his legs out in front of him. Then he snaps back up, pulling out his phone. “Jimin’s home! I’ll get him to come lock up for us.” He wiggles happily as he taps away.

Yoongi folds his arms, closes his eyes, and prepares for a nap. “Jungkook?” Yoongi peaks an eye open at Taehyung’s voice. The boy rolls onto his arms and swings his feet behind him. “Get Jimin, we are locked… actually we are unlocked this time.” Taehyung debates with Jimin then hangs up. “They’re coming.”

“They?” Yoongi asks.

“Jungkook and Jimin.”

“Jungkook?”

Something shifts on Taehyung’s face as he wanders over to wait with Yoongi.

“The kid from my party.”

“Ah.”

“Who you met again the other day. And questioned his age. And told him that we work the same shifts,” Taehyung’s squinting at Yoongi, pressing forward on the counter.

“Oh yeah, that kid.” Ignoring why Taehyung knows all that information.

“He's coming by.”

“Okay?” Yoongi asks. He hopes his irritation shows on his face and stops Taehyung’s questions.

Taehyung rubs at his chin. “Strange, that after you mention we work the same shifts with me, your only connection to my Jungkookie, you happen to forget your keys.”

“Your Jungkookie?” Yoongi snickers. “Do you own him?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, he just continues to squint at Yoongi like he can see past his eyes into his skull. And Yoongi now sees where Tae is going with this. It was dumb to act like he didn’t know Jungkook and he’s trapped himself. Yoongi admits as much. “That is quite the coincidence, but do you think I’d do anything to jeopardize me going home from work?”

Taehyung studies his face a bit more. Admittedly, Yoongi had considered the fact that working with Taehyung coincided with the likelihood of seeing Jungkook more. But this? He’s not that desperate.

He hopes. Maybe his subconscious betrayed him.

“Okay,” Taehyung holds his hands up. “Fair point, I guess I’ll grab a soda.”

“If you pay for it,” Yoongi calls. Taehyung turns to come sit next to Yoongi again, scuffing his shoes. Yoongi nuzzles into his arms like a makeshift pillow, wondering if he really could nod off with Taehyung here.

“No one’s here,” Tae hums. Nope, definitely not getting a nap in. Yoongi doesn’t even acknowledge such a mundane comment.

Tae scoots closer. “No one. Is. here.”

“It really sounds like you are either freaked out or I should be,” Yoongi grunts, snuggling farther into his arms.

“Can I…” Taehyung trails off. He nudges Yoongi.

“Goddammit just say it,” Yoongi huffs, bracing on the desk to finally grant Tae his attention.

Taehyung has SoundCloud up on his phone, wiggling it back and forth while his bottom lip keeps his smile tucked in. It’s Yoongi’s page, or better yet, _Suga_ ’s page. Yoongi tries not to smile and settles for rolling his eyes. “Okay fine.”

Tae lets out a victorious shout before trotting back to his homeland in electronics. Seconds later, one of Yoongi’s older mixes is blaring through the speakers. Tae continues to turn it up until Yoongi’s sure the cops will think someone’s broken into the store rather than become trapped in it.

“Uh!” Taehyung shouts, waving his arms this way and that. “Yah!” He pops his hood up. “This is--” he poses- “a Suga production!”

“I don’t do it like that,” Yoongi waves off, but continues to watch Tae’s performance. He bounces around the small opening, jaw jutted out as he makes up absurd rap lines about the women’s jewelry section and anything else within view. Yoongi is about to actually crack and laugh when something catches his eye.

Jungkook and Jimin have finally arrived. They stand at the entrance, both surveying Tae’s routine with disapproving looks. Yoongi stands, stretches, and saunters over to join them by the door. As he gets closer, he realizes they both are shouting Tae’s name. Once Tae turns back to Yoongi and finds him missing, he finally notices the new crowd.

“Hey!” Tae waves dramatically, continuing to hunch and jab at the air. Jimin marches over to disconnect the sound system.

“Turn that gangster trash off!” Jungkook shouts into a now silent store. His voice echoes off the walls.

Jimin freezes with the yanked cord in his hands.

“Jungkook,” Tae starts, hands still above his head. “I’m gonna give you one chance to change what you just said.”

“What?” Jungkook scoffs. “About the gangster trash? Let’s get going, right-” Jungkook cuts off when he turns to Yoongi who is already looking at him, expression blank. Jungkook steps back a bit.

Yoongi gives him a once over from his cute face with his dumb mouth to his stupid dumb hot body to those stupid shoes. Anyone who wears converses has trash taste in music, anyways.

“Huh,” he chuckles mirthlessly. Then he pushes on the exit door and steps in the cool night air. A few moments later, he hears Jungkook give an incredulous squawk, followed by thudding footsteps and a whiney “Hyung!”

Yoongi’s shoulders stiffen at the word. He spins on his heel. “Hyung?” he mocks.

Jungkook skids to a stop in front of Yoongi, his breath puffing out in white clouds from pouty lips. “Hope said I could call you Hyung…” When Yoongi doesn’t answer, he bounces on the balls of his feet. “I just.. I didn’t know it was…” Jungkook presses his lips together and takes a heavy breath through his nose. Yoongi tries to stay annoyed even as his shoulders square and his neck flexes. “I just thought you didn’t like that kind of music so I said that I didn’t.”

“Why does it matter what I like? Like what you want. Be proud of it.”

Jungkook, for some reason, smiles at that. His nose scrunches up showing his buck teeth. Yoongi is having a hard time staying annoyed. He nods and turns to walk home.

“Wait!”

Yoongi sighs, “what?” he doesn’t turn around. He hears Jungkook’s shoes scuffle among the leaves and smiles a bit. That’s right, follow me after trashing my music.

“You shouldn’t walk home so late at night by yourself,” Jungkook says behind him.

Yoongi stops in his tracks and Jungkook runs right up into him. He whirls. “You think I can’t take care of myself?” Which is a hard rhetorical question to ask a man twice his size.

Jungkook looks completely defeated, eyes darting through space searching for an explanation. Shit, his pout actually looks more adorable than his smile.

“I’ll be fine,” Yoongi says a bit nicer.

“But, I…” Jungkook huffs. “Okay, goodnight Hyung.”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” Yoongi says, waving as he turns. But he doesn’t miss the way Jungkook’s Bambi eyes get a little wider, his shoulders scrunching up a bit.

He can’t forget it two days later at work, either. When he came in to buy more goddamn gatorade in a goddamn tanktop that looked too goddamn good.

Luckily, he had a distraction. A snotty, coughing distraction. “Hoseok,” Yoongi scolds. Hope tries to beam at him, but his eyes are so heavy with exhaustion he can barely hold them open. “Go home.”

Hope pouts, bracing on the cash register with a loud sniff. “I can’t. I’m manager.” Compared to his usual enthusiasm, the words sound like a death sentence.

Yoongi huffs. Having to care this much is a lot of energy. It’s usually Hope's job. “If we all get sick, the whole store will close rather than descend into chaos without you,” he waves a hand out. Taehyung and Jimin stand in electronics, hip-thrusting lazily to whatever techno beat they’ve put on, both staring at their phones absently.

“But I-” Hope deflates a bit. “Okay yeah, I’m dying. I need to go home.” He tries to heave himself off the cash register. He gives Yoongi a pointed look. It always takes him by surprise when Hope actually looks serious. “But you’re in charge.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Good grief.”

“Do you need anything from the pharmacy?” He asks.

“We don’t have any drugs?”

“There’s no legal drugs in our house.”

Yoongi looks him up and down. Even his skin looks pale, and there’s no way he’s letting Hope get meds himself. “Go home, I’ll pick it up.”

“Ooh,” Hope hums appreciatively, but even that ends in a cough. Yoongi waves him off, settling back into his chair as Hope staggers to the back.

The shift isn’t too bad. Nothing chaotic. Four o’clock rolls around in no time.

Well, almost.

At 3:55, which Yoongi knows because he is staring down the cash register’s clock, someone clears their throat in front of his stand. He glances up to see a distraught older gentleman. When Yoongi says nothing, the man clears his throat again.

“Yes, sir?” Yoongi tries to say nicely, eyes darting down to the clock. 3:56.

The man crosses his arms, assessing Yoongi. “Are you the manager?” 

Well, fuck. He guesses he is today. He nods once.

“Well, Mr. Manager, I think you really need to consider the kind of people you are employing at your store.”

Yoongi sighs, straightening up on his stool. “What seems to be the problem?”

“The problem is there is no customer service here,” the man raises his voice, turning his head to see if he can draw anyone’s attention. 

With another sigh, Yoongi thumbs at the intercom. “Taehyung, come to the front.”

“How do you know who- oh,” the man cuts off as Taehyung comes jogging to the front. But as Taehyung approaches, his beaming smile fades into something darker. His jaw sets, hands jamming in his khakis. The man smirks like he’s already won.

“Alright,” Yoongi places both hands on the station. “What did you do?”

Taehyung chews the inside of his lip, scuffing his shoe. “Ididntdoanythingwrong.”

Yoongi leans forward, cupping his ear. “Excuse me?”

Taehyung’s eyes dart up, and Yoongi feels his heart skip a bit. His eyebrows are drawn low, jaw jutted forward, his features all the more dangerous by the rarity of an angry Taehyung. “He called Jimin a faggot.”

Yoongi blinks. He looks at the man, then back at Taehyung. The man shuffles a bit uncomfortable but doesn’t back down.

“He did what?”

Taehyung jabs a finger at the man next to him. “He said that he was tired of seeing faggots everywhere he went.”

Yoongi blinks again. “Sir,” he starts, “Did you tell one of our employees he’s a faggot?”

The man scoffs, looking at the ceiling. “I said it to myself, no one in particular.”

Yoongi nods, turning back to Taehyung. “And what did you do?”

“I told him he could fuck off when he asked me for help.”

Yoongi reaches out to ruffle Taehyung’s hair. “Good job, back to work.” Taehyung beams, biting his lip to keep from bouncing around at the gentle touch.

The man, on the other hand, has an entirely different reaction. His neck turns cherry red, sputtering as he waves his arms about. “What kind of treatment is this? And you call yourself a professional establishment?” He’s shouting at this point.

“I know this may come as a surprise to you, sir,” Yoongi starts, opening up his time card to clock out. “But our employees are in fact real people who deserve a certain amount of human decency.” He clicks clock out and slouches off the stool.

But the man follows. “What is your name? I’m speaking to _your_ manager. I’m going to post this on-”

Yoongi whirls, spinning on his heel. “Yoongi,” he enunciates each syllable. “Yoongi Min. Want me to write it down for you?”

The man’s nostrils flare, enraged, as he starts laughing hysterically, stomping out of the store. Yoongi takes a deep breath and waves in the direction of Taehyung, mouthing _I’m off._

Outside, he takes a calming breath before heading to the pharmacy. The cold air pierces through his annoyance, so he braces against the cold as he mosies down the sidewalk. His jacket isn’t doing much, and he regrets shucking his work shirt to avoid having to “uphold the company's reputation” as long as he’s wearing it. When he finally gets into the pharmacy, he shudders against the warm air that greets him. He nods to the teenage boy behind the counter who nods back. 

The place is busy for a weekday. “Everybody must be sick,” Yoongi grumbles to himself, making his way back to the large blue sign which reads “cold and flu.” He shuffles between displays of aloe socks and holiday cards, narrowly missing a 50% off sign hanging awkwardly off the side of an aisle. The Cold and Flu aisle itself is deserted, but the contents already look rummaged through as he starts to survey his options.

“Yoongi,” a small voice startles him. He pauses in place, debating if he should ignore the voice. When he turns his head down the adjacent produce aisle, he still isn’t sure if he should have ignored the voice.

“Alcohol boy,” Yoongi responds. Jungkook stands in the aisle, blue button-up tucked into high-waisted, black jeans. It’s the best view Yoongi’s ever had of his figure. How his waist trims into small hips, thighs bulging in the dark wash fabric. The shirt outlines his biceps, flexed from holding two cartons of… “Banana boy?” Yoongi corrects, cocking his head to the side.

Jungkook startles at that, seeming to realize Yoongi is not a figment. He clutches the cartons to his chest then laughs awkwardly. Yoongi furrows his brow in confusion but takes a tentative step towards the boy.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asks, taking all the steps to close the space between them. Damn, he smells amazing. Jungkook’s brown eyes peer down at him, eager and earnest.

“It’s a pharmacy… it’s not a surprising place to be in flu season,” Yoongi grumbles.

“That’s true, I’m surprised to see you looking so…” Jungkook chokes, coughs, and tries to clear his throat. Yoongi gets a glimpse of the veins running up his forearms when he covers his mouth. Oh god. “Um, looking so day clothes.”

Yoongi’s mouth parts as he ponders the grammar there. “So day clothes?”

Jungkook laughs again, ducking his head. “Uh, yeah.”

They both stand there, staring at each other for a moment.

“Okay, well I need to get Hope some cold meds…” Yoongi trails off, twisting on the ball of his foot.

“Hobi’s sick?” Jungkook inquires. Yoongi flinches a bit. He already even uses his nickname. Something about that bugs him. And didn’t Jungkook just call him Yoongi? What happened to Hyung? “Oh!” Now Yoongi jumps, the sound way too loud for being two feet apart. “Um, I have cold medicine!”

Yoongi looks back, making the mistake of checking Jungkook’s pockets, only to see how the fabric of those jeans bunches around the zipper. “On you?” Yoongi tries to stay focused.

“Oh!” Another loud oh. Yoongi checks that he isn’t drawing unwanted attention. He already runs into overly nosy grandmas in here. He’s down to help them reach something on the top shelf, not to have them up in business. “At my house!”

“You want me to go to your house to avoid paying $10 for cold medicine?” Yoongi checks.

Jungkook’s eyes somehow get even wider, the whites showing all the way around, before his tongue nudges at his cheek. Had Yoongi pissed him off somehow? Was he one of those people that forced help and then wanted the other person to be grateful?

“Hobi is my… I mean he is your… I mean... I just want to, um, help,” Jungkook tries to explain, shuffling the cartons in his hands. “I just got off work.” He jostles a carton towards his _Best Buy_ logo on the button up.

Okay, yeah, this makes sense. Go to this kid’s house for meds he could buy here and add an extra hour to his trip.

“Best Buy? Not surprised with your love for cameras,” Yoongi shoves his hands in his jacket pocket and waddles on over to Jungkook. Jungkook immediately brightens, a big, giddy smile spreading over his face as he and Yoongi head to the checkout. 

“I actually just got moved to the camera section!” Jungkook explains as they walk out of the store. He has the milk in one hand, the other free between them. Yoongi keeps his chin tucked in his jacket, using the angle to keep glancing at Jungkook’s hands. They look nice. Like they’d be gentle yet firm if he laced their fingers together.

Yoongi braces the cold head-on for the rest of the walk to try and clear his mind of any hand-holding.

“Um, earlier,” Jungkook starts as they turn into a neighborhood. “I meant that your clothes look cool. Your normal clothes. I was surprised.”

“You were surprised I don’t wear parkas and clerk vests every day?”Yoongi teases, smirking to himself.

“You looked so cool. You are so cool,” Jungkook says quietly.

“It’s just my clothes, I’m not that cool,” Yoongi says humbly.

“Taehyung told me what you did today. That was cool.” Jungkook retorts. Yoongi glances over, but Jungkook’s looking straight ahead, nose and cheeks pink from the cold.

“Christ, he’s already texting you about that?”

Jungkook chuckles to himself. “Yeah, he said you are the greatest.”

Yoongi shrugs, letting his ego inflate a bit. “People just need to stay in their lane and realize everybody’s a little gay these days.”

“Everybody?” Jungkook asks, voice unnaturally high. Yoongi shrugs. Almost everyone he knows seems to be a little gay these days. Jungkook starts walking a bit faster, so Yoongi starts to shuffle along. He then realizes Jungkook doesn’t have a jacket on. All that muscle must keep him warm. But his cheeks are so cute with that blush of pink from the cold.

“You know…” Yoongi starts, “you’re a bit of a surprise, too.”

“What?” Jungkook stutters, feet quickening a bit.

“You, uh,” _You are incredibly hot but super shy_ , Yoongi thinks to himself. “Your body doesn’t match your character.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches up to his stomach, finally slowing down a bit. Yoongi wonders if he made him uncomfortable. But he smiles softly, saying, “Taehyung calls me boft.”

Yoongi scoffs. “And what does boft mean? Another Taehyung-ism?”

“Buff and soft.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi looks Jungkook over, and Jungkook clears his throat. “Fits.”

Jungkook stumbles a bit, and Yoongi pauses while he catches back up. “It does?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, just falls a step behind again for Jungkook to lead the way. They make their way to a small townhouse. It’s in a line with about four other homes of the exact same style, but Jungkook’s house is already decked out in holiday decorations.

“Okay, so,” Jungkook clears his throat. Maybe he’s getting sick, too. “Come on in,” he twists the knob. Yoongi relishes the heat that comes rushing towards him as they step in. He shucks his shoes then steps into the living room. There’s no clothes or empty bottles like Taehyung and Jimin’s, and the coffee table isn’t littered with drugs like his own home. The furniture is arranged neatly, and the art on the walls all seems to match. Actually, all the art is photographs. Yoongi wonders if Jungkook took them all.

“Nice place,” Yoongi comments.

“Thank god,” Jungkook groans. “Honestly, we try to keep the place tidy.”

Yoongi nods as Jungkook puts the milk in the fridge. Yoongi peers at a photo of the ocean, a small sort of scaffolding jutting out into the evening sky. When Jungkook comes back, Yoongi turns. They stand on opposite sides of a small rug.

But as Jungkook stares down at him, chewing the inside of his lip, the warm air suddenly starts to feel a little stuffy. There’s the sound of a clock ticking somewhere in the house, the subtle footsteps of neighbors in the next wall over. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath in. “Your cheeks look cute.”

Yoongi can feel his forehead crinkle as his eyebrows raise. “Okay?” Jungkook takes another deep breath, stepping towards Yoongi. Yoongi gets a strange feeling he should step back. “Are you going to go get the meds?”

“Totally,” Jungkook says, tucking his bottom lip in as he takes another step forward. His eyes bore into Yoongi’s and honestly, Yoongi’s not sure if he’s made him mad somehow. Then Jungkook takes yet another deep breath and opens his mouth. “You know, I… I like… I…”

Yoongi tilts his head. Jungkook gasps and ducks his head. Jungkook’s finger shoots to the ground between them. The dirty white tops of their converse almost touch. “Your shoes!”

Yoongi blinks, then looks down slowly, checking out his faded sneakers. “Really? I hate converse.”

“What?” Jungkook squeaks. “But you pointed out we have the same shoes before.”

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Yoongi says before he can stop himself. Shit, he wishes he could pull his face mask over his mouth to shut himself up.

Jungkook leans forward though, his eyes something fierce. He’s almost chest to chest with Yoongi now. And Yoongi… he’s not sure what to do. But boy, does Jungkook smell so good today. And he looks good.

“Why did you want to talk to me?” Jungkook asks, voice soft and eyes wide. Yoongi looks in between those doe eyes, so close, his lips such a pastel shade of pink and only inches from his own now. And if he’s not mistaken, he swears Jungkook must be looking at his own lips, too.

“Jungkook-ah!” Jungkook lunges backward, clutching his chest. Yoongi’s heart is sent racing as well, though he’s not sure why. “Are you already off work?” Jin calls from the entrance. He walks into the living room, shedding a large, puffy coat before he pauses.

He glances between a confused Yoongi and a terrified Jungkook. Then, he starts to chuckle. It’s not his usual, jolted laugh. It almost sounds… conniving.

“Hello Yoongi,” Jin says through giggles.

“Hi…” Yoongi trails off, now his turn to glance between the brothers. Something about this feels oddly suspicious. Like maybe he’ll be murdered.

“Did Jungkook finally invite you over?”

Yoongi squints. “Finally…?”

“The meds!” Jungkook shouts. He thuds across the living room, slamming into Jin who only laughs harder. “I’ll go get those meds for Hobi-hyung! Wait right there!” He dashes out of the room then swings back on the doorframe to shout “Don’t talk to Jin!” before heading down the hall.

Jin laughs harder, cheeks swelling with mirth. Yoongi just stands there, unable to read the strange air in the room.

Jungkook returns, a packet of Vitamin C, Ginseng, and Tylenol in his hands. “I think all of these should do,” he nods, rocking on his heels.

Yoongi pockets them with a nod. “I’ll let Hope know.”

“Bye-bye, Yoongi,” Jin calls from the sofa, smiling up at the two. Jungkook looks like he might kill someone. Yoongi’s a bit deterred by the hostility, not sure if he’s overstayed his welcome somehow.

“I’ll be going then,” he manages, stepping backward. Jungkook nods hastily.

“Come back soon!” Jin calls. Yoongi hears him yelp as he heads out the door.

* * *

Sitting at the break table, Yoongi can’t seem to get over whatever happened in Jungkook’s house the other day. He looked… oddly annoyed at Yoongi. He was staring daggers at him. But he clearly wanted him there, right? He invited him. Chatted with him the whole way there.

Yoongi remembers how he squeaked at compliments, clutching his stomach and complimenting Yoongi’s clothes. The kid is so goddamn cute. Yoongi can’t handle this. And he’s coming in more and more. It’s like every day he forgot what he needed to buy the day before. He talks to Taehyung and Jimin right in front of his register but just goes to the checkout each time.

What is with that? Can’t he come say hi?

Is he avoiding Yoongi on purpose? Oh shit, can the kid tell he’s interested?

Yoongi groans to the table. He leans back and groans to the ceiling. Finally, he lets his body fall limp in the chair, the backrest crammed uncomfortably into the arch of his neck, and he groans again.

When the door creeks, he rolls his head to the side.

Jungkook.

Jungkook peeks through the door, one hand wrapped around the edge, cheeks hollowing as he makes contact with Yoongi sprawled out at the break table. Did Yoongi rub a magic lamp? Was his coffee cup some long lost antique object with the power to grant wishes with a single swig?

“How the fuck…” Yoongi starts.

Jungkook clears his throat, mouth bobbing. He slams the door. Yoongi hears a muffled sorry on the other side.

This coffee cup magic lamp doesn’t work _that_ well.

“How the fuck…” Yoongi repeats, realizing what a lazy piece of shit he looks like lounging back here. Granted, it is his break, but still. He looked uninteresting enough for Jungkook to bolt after seeing it’s only him here.

Wait.

Yoongi hauls himself up from the table and goes to the door. He needs to figure out if the kid’s mad at him or not. “Hey!” He shouts but hears someone else shout at the same time.

Jungkook turns, eyes terrified at Yoongi, as Tae jogs up from down the delivery bay. He launches at Jungkook, swinging his arms around him with a big smile. Jungkook catches him around the waist, placing him back on the ground. Yoongi stops.

Oh.

“It’s Tae,” Yoongi says. Tae stops hugging Jungkook to turn around. He looks comfortable there, arm draped across Jungkook while Jungkook’s arm still rests gently on his waist. They look comfortable together. 

_My Jungkookie_ , Taehyung had said the other night. Jungkook had picked up when Taehyung called. Jungkook put together an adorable slideshow for Taehyung’s house warming. 

Yoongi’s brain stumbles for a response. “Only employees,” Yoongi points ahead, knowing that he’s in the general direction of at least one or two EMPLOYEES ONLY signs littered around the back of the store.

Tae gives a big smile. “Oh, Yoongi? I didn’t know you were back here. How stran-” Tae’s voice goes up an octave when Jungkook squeezes his waist. He giggles, wiggling from his grasp and taking Jungkook’s hand. “We’re just going to smoke out back, want to join?”

Yoongi stares at their joined hands, then up at Jungkook. His eyes are still wide with terror, mouth hanging open.

It clicks. Taehyung is always around Yoongi. They come from the same hometown. Taehyung is a touchy-feely person, especially with grumpy people like Yoongi.

Jungkook had been sizing him up. Maybe he thinks Taehyung is too close to him. Maybe he sees Yoongi as a threat now. That explains those crazy intense eyes the other day.

“Nah,” Yoongi turns to go back to his useless-definitely-not-enchanted coffee cup.

Well, Yoongi just needs to show him it’s all good. They can be friends.

“We don’t even need to be friends, you idiot,” he grumbles to himself, heading back out onto the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts again :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi tries to clear the air with Jungkook. Twice.

Yoongi rubs at groggy eyes as he finally exits out of CME Xkey. He can’t bear to hear the same 8 guitar chords again. Something’s off, something’s missing, but he can’t place it. It’s time for him to give up for tonight.

Twirling his chair towards his bed, he curses under his breath. The sun’s up. It pilfers through the plastic shudders on his window. Once again, he spent the entire night working on music.

With limbs shaky from sleep-deprivation, he waddles out of his chair and out the door. He squints against the sun streaming in through the kitchen window as he heads down the hall. When he opens Hope’s door without knocking, he takes three steps in then collapses on Hope’s bed. Hope jiggles his legs beneath him and Yoongi groans in protest.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Hope sings, back perched on pillows and scrolling through his phone.

Yoongi claws at the other end of the covers and pulls them over his head. He tries to dig under to lock down Hope’s jostling feet.

“Give me your energy, Hobi,” he grumbles, voice croaky with the sleep he never had.

“You take moonlighting to a new level, Hyung. Why don’t you just go to bed?” Hope asks, rustling Yoongi’s hair. Yoongi shrugs. He’ll go to bed. But he needs to recharge first. He feels like he worked on the same 45 seconds all night.

Well, he did. He smiles contently as Hope scratches a bit at his scalp, occasionally chuckling at whatever is on his phone. He can practically feel his battery life coming back.

“Awh, Yoongi,” Hope hums like he’s talking to a puppy. “Did you work hard last night?” Yoongi nods. “Are you ever going to work that hard at your day job?” Yoongi shakes his head. 

Hope sighs. He starts to pull his legs up. Yoongi whines, trying to hang on as Hope rolls out of bed. “It’s time for the normies to be up and at’em!” He says way too loud for Yoongi’s ears. He cracks one eye to watch Hope stretch side to side. “Jimin and I are gonna go dance now that the sun’s out again.”

“It’s too cold to dance outside, you maniac,” Yoongi grumbles as he lays out on Hope’s bed. He tucks the pillow under his head. Hope’s bed is 100x better than his own. His room is charged with the annoyance of being stumped on his work. But Hope’s feels warm and soft, just like him. Even the smell of Hope makes him relax, the scent as warm as his presence.

“Is it?” Jimin asks, head popping around the door. Hope lurches onto the bed in shock, a mix of laughing and shouting bursting from him. Jimin cackles, waltzing into the room swinging the spare key he has. Yoongi pays him no mind, just buries his face further into the bed.

“You guys look like an old married couple,” Jimin teases. Yoongi throws the pillow over his head as Hope leans in to pose and he hears the sound of a picture snapping.

“Why do you have to document not only your life but also ours?” Yoongi groans.

“If you don’t like it,” Jimin mimics his annoyed tone, “download a Snapchat to report me.” 

Yoongi rolls in towards the wall, snuggling close to the blankets. Jimin sighs, patting Yoongi’s ass before calling out, “Sleep tight, Yoongi.”

Hope follows with a swift smack. “Night, baby.”

Yoongi stays alert for anymore swats to his ass until he hears the front door close. With the thin walls, he can hear Hope laughing as they head down the hall. At peace in the quiet apartment, he tries to doze off.

Yoongi thinks he may have slept ten minutes before the covers are yanked from his body. Goosebumps roll over his skin. He grasps widely for the covers. When he finds nothing, he sits in a flash to glare at whoever is the culprit.

Taehyung. He’s dancing back and forth to some dumb children’s song on his phone. He twirls before jabbing a finger at Yoongi. “Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

Yoongi snatches the covers up from the end of the bed, tucking them over his head again. “I am in. I don’t need clothes.”

“Hyung!” Taehyung whines. “It’s from _Mean Girls_.”

“I’m going to be a mean girl if you don’t get the fuck out.”

“This isn’t even your room!” Taehyung’s voice is petulant close to his ear. Yoongi seizes up as it sends a tickle down his cheek.

He shoves Taehyung back. This is the exact kind of behavior that’s making Jungkook think he’s a threat. “Back off, you can’t do that shit!”

Taehyung blinks then starts dancing again with a mischievous grin. “Get up and I won’t have to do anything.” He dances out of the room, swinging his hips side to side as he pumps his arms in the air.

Yoongi looks around. The sun is no longer rising because strings of orange cast in through Hope’s blinds. He rubs at his face, mouth thick with sleep. He slept through the daylight hours. Excellent.

“Yoongi!” Hope sings from the living room. “Did you check the group chat?”

“No!” Yoongi falls back in Hope’s bed. His phone isn’t even in this room.

“He never checks the group chat,” Jimin complains from somewhere in the apartment. “He’s a grandpa.”

“And grandpa’s need to sleep,” Yoongi argues, getting out of Hope’s bed to shuffle towards his own.

“You slept all day, old man,” Jimin complains from the sofa. He’s got a bowl in one hand, lighter in the other. Yoongi reaches out to take it, but Jimin hands it to Taehyung. “Only if you come to karaoke.”

Yoongi blanches. He looks at Hope who just smiles wide. He looks again at the bowl. The smell of weed is already waking him up. Just a puff and a bit of coffee, and he’d be ready to produce again. But just remembering the piece he’s stuck on starts to irk him. “Fine, but I’m not singing.”

“That’s okay, Seokjin already has a list of songs picked out,” Hope giggles.

“Seokjin?” Yoongi asks.

Jimin rolls his eyes, handing Yoongi the bowl from Taehyung. “The group chat. Jesus, Hyung, I know you don’t have social media but at least try to stay tuned in.”

Yoongi mouths off at Jimin, pressing the bowl to his lips. Flicking the lighter, he takes a quick drag before letting his thumb off the hole. The smoke fills his chest. As he breathes out, the earthy taste coats his tongue. When the smoke clears, he sees Taehyung’s phone angled at him.

“Do not put smoking videos online like you are 14 years old, Tae,” Yoongi scolds.

“But you look so cool when you do it,” Taehyung retorts, not bothering to look up as he types away.

“Again, if you want to report it, have to download Snapchat, Hyung,” Jimin snickers.

“Social media is just another way for the government to gain access to our information,” Yoongi states, but he goes to get his phone. When the screen lights up, he has 57 new messages. He rubs at his messy hair. Another chat to silence.

But when he opens it, his heart jumps. There are two unknown numbers in the chat. One with a list of songs. The other adding a few more. If one is Seokjin, the other has to be Jungkook.

He has Jungkook’s number.

Fuck yeah.

Yoongi glances up at the small mirror hanging by his closet. Shit, he can’t go out like this. He grabs a beanie, tucking in his chaotic hair. He throws on an old leather jacket, shrugging whatever jeans are on the floor over his boxers.

“Woah, you look good,” Jimin whistles.

“I look like I always do,” Yoongi grumbles, taking a seat.

“You look like you do when you want to try,” Taehyung snarks.

“Hyung, I said you look good,” Jimin tucks his chin on the arm of the sofa. “Don’t I look good?”

“See, this is what Snapchat is used for,” Taehyung butts in. He comes over and stands next to Yoongi, angling the camera at them both. He tucks his forefinger and thumb under Yoongi’s chin. “Say cheese!”

Yoongi doesn’t smile. When Taehyung goes to play with the settings, Yoongi complains, “I don’t see why I need to tell everyone what I’m up to.”

“Sometimes people just want to know what people are up to. For example, Jungkook always posts whatever video projects he’s working on. It’s fun to see the teasers.”

“Oh, Jungkook has Snapchat?” Yoongi curses how he can hear himself masking his enthusiasm.

“ _Everyone_ has Snapchat,” Jimin answers.

“Well yeah, you told me that. I just thought, you know, it’s interesting how Jungkook uses it to not just post pictures of himself like you guys do,” Yoongi rambles, pulling out his phone. “Maybe I should download it to show some of my music. Inspire me for when I’m stuck. Seems like a good reason.”

Hope gives him one of those tacit looks, but Yoongi stares at his phone. Hope knows what it means when Yoongi rambles so much. He knows he’s bluffing.

But Yoongi’s not bluffing, he tells himself. This could genuinely benefit his career.

Or something.

“Mhm, okay,” Jimin giggles, kicking his legs over the edge of the couch to stand. “I’ll tell the group chat to send their usernames.”

“You don’t have to,” Yoongi shrugs, pulling open the group chat to wait for the usernames.

Karaoke is a shit show. The already small room feels cramped with the amount of energy the boys pour into it. Yoongi scrunches up in a corner, legs tucked up to his chin, while the boys fight over the song machine and order snacks and drinks.

For about four songs, everyone cooperates. Everyone being the people in the group chat that Yoongi was added to while he was asleep. A group chat that included Seokjin and Jungkook. Yoongi’s a bit relieved. On some ground, he’s established a solid connection with the brothers now. It’s kind of like Taehyung’s two friend groups have merged. 

Typical Taehyung.

Typical of Taehyung to want to include his boyfriend in everything he does, Yoongi reminds himself.

Even though Seokjin chose the songs, Taehyung leads. He says whose singing what. He makes teams, dragging out tambourines and various maracas for the crowd to use. Taehyung even demands Hoseok and Jimin to be the backup dancers.

But then Seokjin gets up there. It starts off soft and sweet, the chaos of the room stills. And then Jungkook joins in.

Yoongi’s brain starts to implode at yet another thing that is perfect about the boy. He sits here with Jungkook’s breathy, high-pitched song mixing with Seokjin’s, smooth as silver, drifting through his ears. 

Over the last month, Yoongi’s been tortured. Taehyung has gushed about Jungkook’s passion for photography and the sacrifices he makes to upkeep it. Yoongi has watched how Jungkook praises Seokjin one second then teases him the next, wishing the boy would do the same to him. Jimin has flashed videos of Jungkook working out, fucking shirtless, to him who knows how many times.

And there’s something like electricity now drifting down Yoongi’s spine when he hears Jungkook harmonize next to him, the melody simple yet mesmerizing as the two brothers lean into each other. And for a second, something connects Yoongi’s brain. Like the melody he’s been stuck on all last night is falling into place. With a simple beat and the soft hums of Jungkook it could--

Seokjin starts screeching into the mic, and Hope is hollering back, and Jimin is crumpled on the floor laughing, and Taehyung is singing opera as a backup.

And Jungkook collapses next to Yoongi. Laughing. Yoongi watches the boy instead of the chaos. He looks so sweet. Like a little kid, the way his knees come up when he doubles over, how he claps and laughs so loud and wide without holding back. The way his sweater swamps his form, baggy black cargos making him look like a tiny blob rather than a drop-dead gorgeous college kid.

Yoongi tries really, really hard to stay focused on Taehyung, Jungkook’s Taehyung, and not on Taehyung’s Jungkook.

But Taehyung’s making this whole explain-to-Jungkook-he’s-not-a-threat thing really hard. Taehyung sings to Yoongi. Taehyung tries to drag Yoongi up to the front and throws his arms around his shoulders, trying to get Yoongi to sing along to some kpop girl group. And it’s really hard to not seem like Taehyung isn’t obsessed with him when he has everyone sit down, silencing the crowd before he holds the mic to his own phone.

It’s another one of Yoongi’s songs. And man, can Yoongi not help but smile and feel a bit giddy when Taehyung gasses him up like this. And he can’t help taking the microphone as Hope shoves it in his hands. And his legs go all too willingly to the small stage just as he’s supposed to start.

Yoongi likes producing in his room. He likes having his headphones on so it feels even more so like it’s just him and the music. But this, performing in this small space of friends and drunk smiles and hoots, he likes it.

He gets into it, pacing back and forth, feeling the words slide off his tongue, watching Hope mouth along. The words surge through his body, his alternative persona taking over as he spits the words into the mike, demanding he is recognized.

But as the song draws to a close, he stutters. Because Jungkook is staring at him like he saw a ghost. His jaw is dropped, throat bobbing with his hand on Taehyung’s thigh, knuckles white from how tight he’s squeezing.

Shit.

As he sits down, Seokjin goes off about how fucking cool he is. And honestly, yeah, Yoongi thinks he’s pretty great. But the look of sheer terror on Jungkook’s face keeps him from getting too air-headed. Jungkook’s jaw is tight, his legs pinned together, the grip on Taehyung’s thigh unyielding.

Yoongi tries to stay small after that, close to Jimin the rest of the night, gives Jungkook and Taehyung their space. But it doesn’t keep Jungkook from sending him those big eyes, tongue in his cheek. Taehyung occasionally whispers in his ear and Jungkook snaps back to attention, downing another beer.

Yoongi has to admit, he is a baller rapper. And maybe it’s a little intimidating to Jungkook. But he doesn’t need to overreact like this. Yoongi starts to feel grumpy, at a loss for how to get the boy to realize there’s no way he could handle dating someone like Taehyung.

It doesn’t take long with the amount of yelling and booze for everyone to get worn out. When they finally fall out of the room, everyone is fairly tipsy. Yoongi is drunk and exhausted. He spent way more energy than he ever wanted to.

He just needs to clear the air. If he just outright says states he doesn’t like Taehyung, it’s pretty fucking suspicious. He needs Jungkook to know he doesn’t like Taehyung so he can stop worrying about Jungkook thinking he likes Taehyung. 

As if on queue, at the checkout counter, Taehyung calls out, “Hobi and I have to pee, be right back.”

Seokjin stretches, “Ah, me, too.” He turns then slaps a hand on Jimin’s back. “You need to pee as well,” he whisper-yells. Jimin goes to protest, then suddenly darts off down the hall ahead of the others.

Yoongi and Jungkook stand at the counter, alone. The salesclerk leans over the counter to suspiciously watch the four boys stumble towards the bathroom.

“Did they just leave me to pay for everyone?” Yoongi asks.

Jungkook whirls, but his feet are faster than his brain. He tips, one hand smacking onto the counter for support. “No! Taehungie and I paid when we came in.”

“Ah,” Yoongi turns to the salesclerk, eyebrows raised as if to ask what he needed to do.

“The food,” the salesclerk says, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Oh! I ate most of it, I’ll-” Jungkook gasps when Yoongi bars him with an arm. His head bobs between the forearm against his chest and Yoongi’s face. Wow, this kid’s face gets seriously red when he drinks.

“Let Hyung pay,” Yoongi nods to himself. This is it. He can give an olive branch.

“But...” Jungkook rubs absently at his cheek. “But I want to pay for you.”

“I didn’t really eat anything,” Yoongi shrugs, handing his card to the salesclerk with a smile. He turns the smile to Jungkook, trying to keep his features from straining. It feels weird to smile on purpose.

And it must look weird because whatever goofy expression Jungkook is giving him now looks forced.

Luckily, the bathroom squad comes traipsing back. Yoongi nods and starts to head out.

“Wait!” Taehyung calls, arms loping over Jungkook who catches him before he falls over. “We have to pay!”

“Already did,” Yoongi murmurs as Hope also treats Yoongi like a walking lounge chair.

Seokjin claps his hands. “Wah, you bought my baby brother food?”

Yoongi’s eyes nervously dart to Taehyung, who simply smiles back at him, sloppy and sleepy. “No, I bought everyone’s food.”

Seokjin chuckles, walking past and out the door. “Good enough. I approve.”

Yoongi’s lip curls in confusion. These kids are seriously drunk. But so is he, so he just shoves into the swinging door and out into the night air, filled with the burnt scent of sesame oil. They mill through the downtown strip of closed shops and bustling restaurants out to suburbia, trading conversation here or there. Yoongi enjoys the murmur around him while he can simply stare at the stars as they walk.

“So why don’t you ever come out?” Seokjin asks, suddenly on his right. With how massive he is, Yoongi thinks the brown jacket he’s wearing lined with fur makes him look like a gingerbread house.

“What?” Yoongi asks. “I’ve been out. For like, 5 years.”

Seokjin’s cheeks expand as he tries to hold back a laugh before it bursts out in guffaws. He smacks Yoongi’s back so hard Yoongi propels forward.

“Oh my god, you’re hilarious,” Seokjin says, wiping tears from his eyes. “That was an amazing pun. Wow, you even like puns. We’ve got to keep you around.”

Yoongi cocks his head, then swears. “You meant out with friends.”

Seokjin blinks then bursts out laughing again. This time, Jimin can’t keep in the fact that he’s heard it, throwing himself on Hope in tiny giggles.

“It wasn’t on purpose. Oh my god, oh my god…” Seokjin hiccups in between breaths.

“What? What wasn’t!” Jungkook asks. All four whirl to see Jungkook with his arm slung around Taehyung’s shoulder, the two stumbling in sync. Yoongi looks away, the way his lip curls up and eyebrows dig down too much to handle.

“Yoongi just outed himself,” Jimin giggles through hands covering his face.

“I’ve been out!” Yoongi shouts in exasperation. Jungkook stumbles, falling to the ground by the sidewalk and taking Taehyung with him. He peers up at Yoongi, then at a giggling Taehyung sprawled on top of him.

This, this is his moment. Now that Jungkook knows he’s gay, too, he has to make it clear he’s not going to steal Taehyung. Yoongi strides on over and crouches over the belly-up Jungkook. Jungkook hiccups, eyebrows dipping towards the grass.

“You don’t have to worry,” Yoongi tries to say firmly. He hopes his eyes convey everything he’s trying to imply. Taehyung thumps his fist on Jungkook’s chest in laughter, and Yoongi watches as Jungkook’s mouth twists more at each thump.

He throws Taehyung off and shoves Yoongi away.

Jungkook pukes in the grass.

* * *

It’s that time of year again. The time of year where Yoongi questions every minor purchase he’s ever made. If he hadn’t bought so many coffees, seen that movie that one time, or even kept the heat on so high, would he have been able to afford going home for the holidays?

Realistically, no. All those purchases don’t amount to much.

But as he stares down at his bank’s mobile app, he curses his lack of savings. He hits the lock screen, and Holly, his family dog, peers back at him on the screen.

“Fuck,” Yoongi groans, throwing his head back on the couch in Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment. There are still Christmas lights all over the ceiling from the house warming party months ago, conveniently seasonal now. Back when Jungkook and Seokjin were just troublesome customers, not rowdy friends he saw at least once a week.

“Sounds like you still need this,” Jimin stretches over the arm of the couch, handing Yoongi the joint. He takes a deep inhale, then lets it cloud his vision like it will his thoughts.

He pulls open Snapchat. An app he never would have downloaded, but now checks regularly.

And it’s not because Jungkook posts all the time. He just likes living vicariously through everyone.

“Trapped here for the holidays?” Taehyung asks, silver hair distorting his vision. He and Jungkook have both started growing their hair out. They may be the most attractive couple Yoongi has ever seen. Taehyung's on his back in the middle of the living room, swinging his legs side to side. He hadn't changed out of his pajamas even at 5 in the afternoon.

“You, too?” Yoongi asks, watching Jungkook zoom in on his face over and over again with the caption “all clean”. Yoongi had hoped to ask Taehyung if he wanted to carpool the long drive to save money.

“Yep,” Taehyung crawls across the floor and onto the couch to sit next to Yoongi, taking the joint, Yoongi tucks the phone closer to himself, but not in time. Taehyung shoves at him, eyes lazy and suspicious. “You know people can see how many times you watch their story?”

Yoongi’s phone drops into his lap, lips parting and eyebrows disappearing into his fringe. “They…” he clears his throat. “They can?” He is so fucked. He is so so fucked. He probably looks like a stalker. He probably has watched every one of Jungkook’s snaps this month at least 5 times. Is that why Jungkook is avoiding talking to him all of sudden?

Oh god, he thinks he’s a stalker. Maybe he is.

Jimin chuckles curling over the edge of the couch. “Hyung, he’s joking, it’s not possible.”

Yoongi blinks. He picks up his phone again, back on his feed. “I’m just watching whatever Hoseok sent to me.”

Even Hoseok, who meticulously manages his funds, couldn’t make it home. He's teaching a class at the moment, kind enough to send Yoongi over with the goods. The price of adulthood gets higher and higher each year.

“What’re you going to do instead?” Taehyung asks, arm slinging over Yoongi’s shoulders. He wants to scoot away, but the warmth is cozy, Taehyung’s thumb stroking against his shoulder comfortingly. His favorite thing about Taehyung is also his least favorite thing. He gets all up in his business and can read him perfectly.

Oh shit. Yoongi reluctantly shuffles away. That's Jungkook's Taehyung. This is the exact behavior that had Jungkook staring him down all the time.

“What do you mean?” Yoongi closes his eyes, feeling the sounds around him dull as the weed kicks in. “Work, facetime Holly, wait for the holiday traffic to die down.”

“Why don’t you come to Jungkook and Jin’s?”

Yoongi perks up-- more time with Jungkook. Maybe a moment to clear things up… again. But then his mouth draws into a frown. “Why?”

“Jin is a baller cook,” Jimin pipes in. He lays across the other side of the couch. Yoongi takes a moment to eye all the other places to sit but both boys lounge across him instead. “I’mma ask Hope, too.” 

Jimin falls back off the couch as he tries to get his phone out of his pants pocket with a squawk. But a moment later, he and Taehyung burst into a fit of giggles as Jimin stretches out there instead. Two stoned out lumps rolling around the floor. “Oh? Hope says Jungkook already invited you two.”

Yoongi contemplates it. It can’t be too bad. And honestly, he’d rather spend the holidays with people. He’s used to the chaos of his family, and this gang is just (if not more) chaotic. He agrees.

"Awh, it's like a frie-mly!" Jimin giggles, sitting up to wrap his arms around Yoongi's legs. Yoongi stiffens, but Taehyung wraps his arms around his shoulders. They both start rocking with giggles, and Yoongi sways this way and that, trying to grimace but sneaking a few laughs while the boys cover him in cuddles.

If Yoongi is going to Jungkook’s for the holidays, he can use it as an excuse to talk to him. Maybe smooth things over. He sits at the stool the Friday night before the store closes for the holidays, waiting for the pair to come in. As usual, they follow the same routine. When Jungkook goes to the register first, Yoongi makes another attempt.

“Yo,” Yoongi calls Jungkook as he goes to register first. Jungkook drops his credit card, swerving to Yoongi. And as he does so, the strip of fabric he’s calling a tank top sways, revealing an expanse of skin and the dip of his thin waist. All muscle and no fat protrude under tan skin, clear by the way his heart monitor sits snug on his waist.

“Christ,” Yoongi chokes, “you can’t run around here naked like that.” He’s tried so hard not to masturbate to the thought of Jungkook these months. Which means he hasn’t been able to masturbate at all really. And right now is a real, real struggle for his dick.

Jungkook quirks his head. Then, when Yoongi covers his face to try and collect himself, Jungkook wraps his arms around himself. It does nothing to shield anything, if not emphasize his tensed arms.

Yoongi can’t think of anything to follow up with. He crosses his legs to will his boner away.

"Hey," Yoongi tries again as Jungkook quickly finishes the payment and trots by. The boy grabs at his sides again as he turns to Yoongi with an accusatory look.

"Yeah?" Jungkook breathes, eyeing his usual post by the lottery tickets as Jin walks up.

Shit, Yoongi has no idea what to say. "Why do you come in here with your brother all the time?"

"Well, um, I don't have a car," Jungkook starts.

"Couldn't you wait outside?" Great, Yoongi, why don’t you accuse him.

"It's cold though!" Jungkook's pout is dangerous, his cheeks puffing and his top lip folding up. "Jin picks me up from work at night."

"Ah," Yoongi says, busy watching the curve of his top lip, trying to tell himself he is not thinking about how soft it might feel. “But you’re in workout clothes tonight. Didn’t have work?”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush, clutching his clothes again. “I just… wanted to tag along.”

Jungkook keeps watching him.

Yoongi watches him back.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but can you do your job?" Seokjin nags from the registers. Yoongi turns and glares, but Seokjin just smiles sweetly, holding his ID out. Not that he and Jungkook were having a serious conversation, but Yoongi had a reason to stare at him for once.

"Coming, sir," Yoongi says in a sarcastic tone. He hikes the waist of his pants up, hoping the jolt of pain will ease the growing tension in his jeans.

"Heard you are coming to my holiday party," Seokjin says when Yoongi gets closer.

"Yep, me and Hope," Yoongi nods, picking up the ID only to place it back in his hand.

"Jungkook's excited," Seokjin says, a slight smile on his lips.

"Mhmm," Yoongi mumbles, too nervous to say anything that might cause more misunderstanding. "Need me to bring anything?"

"Just an open mind," Seokjin says. Yoongi squints, but Seokjin just waves him off, joining his brother.

"What did you say?" He hears Jungkook hiss at Jin, but when Jin answers, Jungkook reaches out to karate-chop his neck. Yoongi sighs, staring blankly out at the clothing section.

* * *

Jin is, in fact, a fantastic cook. Yoongi’s jaw drops as soon as the door to their home opens. He’s greeted with the toasted savory scent of ribs, the bite of ginger, and something softer, sweeter wafting through the air. The living room is warm with company, and Yoongi finds out it isn’t just their gang. Other people are present, some also in the kitchen helping Jin.

Hope comes in yelling and waving the weed bag, but Yoongi sneaks on over to the kitchen, tapping the host on the shoulder.

“I will tell you right now, get out of this kitchen if you’re bad with knives or can’t cook,” Jin starts arguing before he turns around. When he sees Yoongi, his smile softens. “Ah! Hope said you can cook a bit.”

“I-” Yoongi gets cut off when Jin plops a knife in his hand. He pushes him around by the shoulders and walks him to a cutting board on the island.

“These peppers, please. Slice, then dice,” Jin gets back to the stove where another girl is helping him stir some liquid concoction that smells like spiced wine.

Yoongi blinks down at the cutting board, then picks up a pepper. Honestly, this is what he needed. A mundane task as he adjusts to the business rushing around him.

He hears Hope’s laugh in the corner, Taehyung complaining about something in the kitchen, and Jimin’s tinkling giggle mixed in with the others. It’s the closest sound to home he’ll get this holiday season, and it’s perfect.

And then he hears something that makes him look up, finger almost diced. It’s a sharp sound, an outburst that somehow draws his attention. In front of the TV, Jungkook’s grabbing onto Taehyung’s shoulder bent over in laughter.

His eyes catch Yoongi, who decides to keep smiling like an idiot instead of wiping it away. He waves the knife at Jungkook in greeting. Jungkook’s face blanks, he grabs Taehyung with both arms and scoots the man in front of him.

Oh.

“How’s the dicing?” Jin asks over his shoulder. Yoongi jumps, surprised by how chatty the man is in the kitchen.

Yoongi gets back to dicing. Seokjin is Jungkook’s brother. They’re also the closest in age. With the soothing repetition of chopping, Yoongi opens up to him. “I think your brother thinks I’m going to steal his boyfriend,” Yoongi teases. He glances up to see Jungkook shooting a pointed glance in his direction.

“Boyfriend?” Jin calls from the stove, pulling out a rack of meat.

“Taehyung. I think I’m competition,” Yoongi explains. “Taehyung’s just a brother from the same city. Maybe he’s upset we’re so close. But I don’t play like that.” He hopes Jin will relay the message and help him avoid an awkward conversation.

Instead, Jin barks out a laugh. Yoongi turns and so do the two girls helping out. Jin wipes his eyes and smacks the oven a few times in amusement. “Oh man, poor Jungkook,” he sniffs. Jin points out to the boys fighting over one of their cellphones in the living room. “Jungkook and Taehyung are definitely not dating. They tried that, on one drunken night, and it did not end well.”

He goes back to his dicing. He should drop it. But the way Jin phrased it… “They… tried?” Yoongi questions as he picks up another pepper.

“Oh yeah, I came into the living room and they were sitting on the ground grabbing at each other’s faces. But they kept shoving each other and chickening out. Apparently Jimin said they were meant to be.”

“Of course he did,” Yoongi affirms.

“Eventually they decided to count down from ten,” Jin hiccups with another laugh. “Oh man, it was great.”

Yoongi can imagine it perfectly. Well, Taehyung at least. Convinced he and Jungkook are supposed to be together because Jimin said so.

He finishes dicing and hands the tray to Jin. Jin thanks him and gives him permission to leave the kitchen since the food is almost done. Yoongi finds a beer and then finds Hope. He’s already switched to water, and Yoongi’s thankful. He almost died carrying Hope home last time.

Yoongi sits on the couch, watching the crowd. Everyone’s smiling, everyone’s hungry. It’s nice. It’s warm and pleasant and he doesn’t feel obligated to put on airs or defend the fact that he doesn’t have a college degree or a good job. His eyes wander over to the trio again, talking to a few other people in the house. Taehyung notices and sends him a big, toothy smile.

Oh yeah.

Why, then, does Jungkook not like him? Yoongi’s brow furrows a bit and he takes a sip of his beer. He doesn’t have a thing for Taehyung, so he can’t be jealous. But why does he always hide behind him? Avoid eye contact? It can’t be about the alcohol, they’d cleared that up, right?

“Alright you animals, it’s time to eat!” Jin hollers. There’s a cheer, and Yoongi shakes off the thoughts.

But he can’t.

All through dinner, he thinks about what he might have done. As he passes the bread to Hoseok, he takes a glance at Jungkook. His cheeks are full, bottom lip jutted out in bliss as he chews. As Yoongi takes a helping of spiced meat, he wonders if he really hurt Jungkook’s feelings teasing him about buying alcohol. 

“Ah, Hyung!” Jungkook whines. Almost every man at the table looks up at the name. But Jungkook swats at Jimin’s small hands. He takes the knife and fork, cutting the food for him. “It’s this way, don’t ruin Jin-Hyung's food.”

“You’re going to blame ruined food on Jimin?” Seokjin pipes up. He leans over to snatch up a plate of sweet potatoes. He flips it upside down. Two girls squeal and duck before they realize that the potatoes are not going anywhere.

Jungkook huffs, smacking his fork to the table. “I thought we agreed it could be used as a festive decoration.”

“That was after you disappointed me!” Jin drops the plate, and sure enough, the potatoes don’t move an inch. “What kind of man did I raise?”

Jungkook huffs, busying himself with cutting the meat. And goddamn, is that not adorable, Yoongi thinks. Who manages to ruin sweet potatoes and still make them look good frozen to a plate?

The clattering of the party picks up again, everyone giggling and commenting on different events in their own lives and in the world. Yoongi just takes a sip of his beer, occasionally tuning into whatever has Hope jostling his shoulder. He festers, watching Jungkook speak to almost everyone at the table but Yoongi.

As Yoongi gets up to grab him and Jimin a beer, he wonders if he said something weird at the last party. By the time they all finish, he’s fed up with his own wondering and worrying.

“Hey,” Yoongi directs to Jungkook. Jungkook, who’s laughing at Jimin downing an entire beer in one swallow only to snort it through his nose, freezes. He sends Yoongi a small smile, trying to sling his shaggy hair off his face.

“Hi,” Jungkook answers. Yoongi steps closer, and Jungkook doesn’t recoil. That’s a good sign, at least. Jimin eyes them, holding a puddle of beer in his hand, then slinks away in search of napkins.

“Why do you not like me?” Yoongi demands.

“What?” Jungkook’s eyes bug out of his head. Yoongi didn’t know they could get any bigger. “I...I don’t not like you!”

Yoongi licks at his lips. “So you like me?” he asks.

“No!” Jungkook shouts. The can in his hand overflows as he crushes it. Jungkook ducks his head, tonguing at the inside of his cheek. “I… I like you.”

Yoongi nods. He’s relieved. Maybe this is just how Jungkook is.

“Okay, good, stop being a weirdo, then,” he claps a hand over Jungkook’s back and Jungkook lets out a cough in surprise. He seems kind of shy, maybe he just seems like he doesn’t like Yoongi. Lots of people think that about Yoongi. He should be more understanding.

“Good?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, good,” Yoongi shrugs to avoid the twinge as the word falls off his tongue. Jungkook’s teeth sink into his bottom lip when he nods a few times, still not looking at Yoongi. Yoongi peers down into Jungkook’s line of sight, rubbing circles into Jungkook’s back. “You sure you aren’t mad at me?”

Jungkook sucks in a breath and shakes his head fervently. Yoongi’s satisfied enough, remembering to stop touching him so intimately. He clears his throat, tucking his hand in his pockets to avoid doing anything more.

“Good, I like hanging around you guys. When it’s not a hassle,” Yoongi takes a sip of his beer. Jungkook gives a small laugh.

“I like having you and Hope around, too,” Jungkook says. “You guys are such an easy-going couple.”

Yoongi’s throat stutters midswallow and beer snorts through his nose. He starts choking, pounding at his chest. Jimin hands him one of the many napkins he grabbed as he comes back over.

“Hope?” Yoongi coughs. “As in Hoseok?” He hacks again. “You think… Hoseok is... like... my brother!”

Jungkook’s mouth bobs, then, in a fit of panic, he shoves Jimin. Jimin almost topples over a sofa. Jungkook does a lot of frantic shoving.

“You didn’t tell me!” Jungkook accuses Jimin, voice high with a whine. Yoongi is still trying to gather himself when Hope wanders over to see what’s going on.

“Heard my name, gentlemen,” Hope sings, leaning next to the spluttering Yoongi.

Jimin’s laughing, hands reaching out for support as his eyes disappear into crescents. “You didn’t exactly ask if they were dating.”

“What? Is romance in the air?” Hope coos, arm looping over Yoongi’s shoulders as he continues to clear his throat of beer.

“Our romance,” Yoongi jokes, sending Hope a disbelieving look. Hope blinks then looks at Jungkook, then collapses in a fit of giggles. Jungkook is as red as a tomato. Wow, he must really not like social confrontation.

“Oh, no, Jungkookie,” Hope tuts, dropping his arm from Yoongi to move to Jungkook. “He’s single.”

Jungkook somehow gets a shade darker.

Oh shit.

Jungkook wasn’t jealous of Yoongi because of Taehyung.

Yoongi looks at how closed off Jungkook is, rolling his lips in to hide his smile as Hope ruffles his hair. Jungkook offering to film his dancing. Inviting them both to Thanksgiving through Hope.

He’s jealous because he thought Yoongi was Hope’s boyfriend.

Hope is oblivious, of course, nuzzling his nose into Jungkook’s cheek as he chuckles. Jungkook rubs his hands between his thighs, shoulders at his ears.

Yoongi wants to relieve him of whatever embarrassing situation is happening now.

“Jungkook, show me where the bathroom is,” Yoongi coughs out. Jungkook nods quickly and marches down the hall. “Slow down!” Yoongi hacks.

Jungkook stops, back still turned, until Yoongi catches up, then he edges towards the bathroom, opens the door, and waves Yoongi in as though he became a robotic butler.

“Do you, uh, need help?” Jungkook asks. Yoongi quirks his eyebrow, wondering how Jungkook can help him in the bathroom. “Right,” Jungkook says, then shuts the door.

“Hey,” Yoongi calls. Jungkook appears at the door again, looking exhausted. “Go for it.”

Jungkook almost slips. “What?”

It’s not usually Yoongi’s place to say these kinds of things, but he likes the kid. He wants the best for him. He wants the best for Hope. “Hope is a great guy, just tell him how you feel.”

The blush drains from Jungkook’s face. “Oh my god,” he groans and stomps down the hallway. Well, damn. Maybe it was too much to tell Jungkook he knows to his face.

After that night, Jungkook doesn’t avoid Yoongi in the store anymore. He comes through self-checkout. He smiles at Yoongi, and Yoongi smiles back. Yoongi won’t admit that he gets a little excited whenever he works with Taehyung on shift, meaning Jungkook will come to meet them. Yoongi won’t comment when Jimin teases how he never seems to say no to Jungkook always inviting him and Hope to join their hang sessions now. He knows what it means.

Jungkook wants Hope, and they’d be good together. And Yoongi reminds himself of that. He reminds himself when Jungkook hovers around the register, asking Yoongi about his weekend plans and if Hope is also free. He reminds himself when Jungkook asks if Yoongi needs help with his recordings, wants any visuals to accompany them. He reminds himself that Jungkook stops by and asks him and Hope to dinner because Jungkook’s probably too shy to go alone.

But, in Yoongi’s opinion, Jungkook is doing a pretty shit job of wooing Hope. He always invites Yoongi along. Whenever they are together, Jungkook is always too nervous to sit next to Hope, opting to sit next to Yoongi instead. Yoongi tries to shove him in the right direction, but Jungkook just giggles, shoving him right back.

Yoongi’s pretty sure Jungkook’s a dumbass to miss all these opportunities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Jungkook will finally get fed up enough to speak his mind next chapter.  
> You can find me on tumblr as JoopiterJoon :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's really hard to push along two idiots. Thank god for coincidences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it, squad. I ain’t too happy with this chapter but I think it’s because I’m impatient to get to the rest of them.
> 
> BY THE WAY, you may have noticed the chapter count update. We are coasting at 9? But I got a bunch of drabbles already. so maybe 15? We’ll see how long this thing goes :)

“Hyung, Hyung!” Hearing Jungkook call him that way makes Yoongi’s heart race, and he scowls at his own involuntary reaction.

Jungkook jogs towards Hope and him as they lock the door to the superstore, Tae trailing behind, already changed out of his work clothes into some oversized getup that Yoongi doesn’t believe could be considered “fashionable.”

Jungkook skids to a stop in front of them. He’s in a red and black striped sweater, hair mussed from the wind. Maybe from the wind that got knocked out of Yoongi when he realized the sweater had a knit wide enough to see through.

“Let’s get lamb skewers!” Jungkook sings, bouncing a bit to fight off the cold. He looks at Hope and smiles sheepishly, but Hope just grabs him by the shoulders and slings him into a hug.

Yoongi wants to do the same, he wants Jungkook’s arms to grasp his shoulders and hug him back tight, but he just nods. 

Hope recoils a bit. He sniffs around Jungkook’s face before ruffling his hair back into place. “Are you already drunk?”

Jungkook laughs, shoulders scrunching up to his ears. “Jimin didn’t want his drink so I had both!”

Hope tuts, sending a look to Jimin who just shrugs in his oversized button up.

“Are you going to ask this Hyung to pay for you again? He told me about last time,” Hope teases. Yoongi could see Hope wink at him, so he grunts in response. 

When Yoongi went out with Seokjin, Jungkook, and Jimin the other week, Yoongi paid for Jungkook when he realized how low his bank account had gotten. Just because. Not because Jungkook looked way too sad and Yoongi’s buzzed heart could not handle seeing him cry into his empty wallet.

Though that might have been cute, too.

“He talks about me?” Jungkook asks quietly as they meet back up with Jimin who’s on the phone with Jin. Yoongi shrugs and waves down Jin’s truck. The large black vehicle bobs along through the potholes and cracked speedbumps, passing cars that are parked but most likely forgotten.

“Guess we are getting lamb skewers?” Yoongi asks, turning to Hope and Jungkook, who both burst into matching grins.

Jin’s car is cramped, so Yoongi always ends up in the backseat. Jimin refuses to admit that they are the same height, if only because he manages to only buy shoes with a slight wedge. Tucked between Jungkook and Hope, Yoongi looks straight ahead, making sure he doesn’t get in Jin’s way of the rearview mirror. Jin had shouted at him to duck down, and Yoongi had complained the whole way. Regardless, he understands safety and now tries to hunch low, knees shoved into the front seats. 

Jungkook’s hands are in his lap, and he keeps twirling his thumbs back and forth. Every time the car hits a bump, Taehyung cheers but Jungkook scoots closer to the window. 

“What are you antsy for?” Jin asks, his eyes gazing at Jungkook from the rearview. Yoongi can see the slight squint of his eyes, implying the unseen smile. Jungkook grumbles, turning to open the window and gaze out at the blurred storefronts. In the passing street lights, Yoongi can see how pink his cheeks are. Maybe he’s getting a fever.

Yoongi knows Jungkook would rather be sitting next to Hope, who can’t seem to stop talking about Yoongi and Jungkook rather than himself. Yoongi just tries to scrunch up smaller, not blocking Jin or Jungkook’s view. He’s content to be next to the boy, thighs pressed together. It’s enough.

Dinner with these people is always loud. Yoongi doesn’t like loud, but after a few drinks, he finds himself shouting across the table just as much as the others. The restaurant is small, stuffy from the zip-up tent connected to a small food truck. The boys gather around the bar table, shouting out music suggestions to the chef.

The more Yoongi drinks, the more he feels comfortable with Hope falling into his lap in laughter or clapping his shoulder after only three drinks. But the more Yoongi drinks, the more he finds himself admiring Jungkook’s smile, the way it looks so boyish, and how his cheeks easily dusted pink from the few shots of soju.

He also can’t help but stare in silent adoration when Hope asks Jungkook about his most recent project. He gets hypnotized by the twinkle in Jungkook’s eye, the pout of his lip as he scolds Jimin for picking on him. He can’t help but laugh at the sudden cheekiness Jungkook displays when Jimin jokes about his gym routine.

He wants Jungkook to make cracks at him. Just because he knows he could outwit him in the end.

Yoongi isn’t sure, but his feet seem to be knocking into Jungkook’s a lot. And Jungkook seems to be knocking back, glancing at Yoongi as he argues with Jin over who could fit the most skewers into their mouth at once.

In an impressive feat, Jin wins.

“You know, you are more of a grumpy old man than a terrifying cashier,” Jin says after an hour or two, now at another bar. His smile is almost permanent from the alcohol, slouching into the corner of the booth. Jin regularly brought up that Yoongi is not as scary as he looks. Yoongi doesn’t even think he looks that scary, especially in his oversized camo parka.

Tae and Hope exchange a glance, snickering. “Do you know how Yoongi got his current position at the store?”

“As hawkeye?” Jimin tags on.

Jungkook shakes his head, hands wrapped around his knees as he listens intently. Moments earlier, he’d been gazing down his shirt, Jimin explaining that tipsy Jungkook always fears his abs will vanish.

Yoongi could care less about the boy’s abs (well, he cares, _a little_ ). He can’t tear his eyes away from the way the veins on his arms roll up and over the rim of his sweater as he peers down inside. And drunk-Yoongi can’t stop thinking about how those arms would look taking his own sweater off.

“He’s the scariest!” Tae pinches Yoongi’s face between his thumb and forefinger. Yoongi crosses his arms but is relieved for the literal pinch to reality check him. “Just his resting face looks like he’s gonna cuss you out.”

Yoongi smiles a bit. He likes his tough exterior. For such a small guy, it’s hard to look cool. “I only agreed if they gave me a stool,” he grumbles through pursed lips.

“No one can tell he’s just like a lazy house cat,” Hope shrugs.

Jungkook stares in awe. “I think he’s so cool, though.” Jungkook reaches forward with a sloppy smile. Hope cringes and Tae looks like he’s ready to grab Jungkook’s wrist away, but their jaws drop when Yoongi lets his arm fall slack when Jungkook pulls on his sleeve. He looks like a puppy, nose scrunched from a big smile and swinging Yoongi’s sleeve this way and that as he talks about how cool Yoongi’s clothes are.

Fuck. Oops again.

Yoongi tries to shrug Jungkook off his shoulder, scooting closer to Jimin. Jungkook’s lip juts out, scooting closer to Yoongi again.

Fuck, Yoongi had tried to get the boy to sit next to Hope, but he seemed insistent on being Yoongi’s shadow tonight. Yoongi sends a pleading look to Taehyung, but Taehyung just slaps the table, standing with a joyful shout. The music box at the front starts blaring a familiar song. The three younger boys start dancing in their seats, shoving and pushing at each other.

“It’s our song!”

“Oh god,” Seokjin groans, but he’s smiling. “You have to watch this shit. I can’t believe they haven’t done it at karaoke.”

Yoongi and Hope perk up as the boys shuffle out from the table and line up as the chorus of a song starts.

Jin claps his hands for attention, scooting around to the other side of the table. “You guys got to show Yoongi and Hope your drinking dance.”

The younger boys line up on the other side. Yoongi can’t believe they’ve managed to find enough room in the crowded bar to make a performance. With elbows flat against the table, they thump to the beat. 

“Drink, drink, drink, drink up my glass ay!” They shout and spin, arms out, jabbing upwards like they’re chugging glasses. Hope is immediately cackling, clapping and hollering.

“One drink!” Jungkook’s body rolls up and Yoongi’s blood rushes down.

“Two drinks!” His hands roll down his sides as Yoongi licks the corners of his mouth.

“Hit the gong and say onghaeya!” Jimin and Taehyung swing at Jungkook who shakes like a gong. Now Yoongi’s snickering, too. Jin and Hope are in each other’s laps with laughter, drunk and amused. The three boys dance around, pretending to rap the verses until the chorus of the drinking song returns and do the whole routine again. 

Yoongi thinks Jungkook might be the most adorable and indestructible brat he’s ever met. Jungkook yelps when he rams into the side of a neighboring table, turning to apologize but instead Taehyung is dragging him by the hips to keep dancing. He’s laughing, head thrown back, completely immersed in the moment.

Yoongi rests his hand on his palm, smiling at the boy as he lazily swirls his beer. He envies Jungkook’s joy, his ability to ignore everything else- the growing bill, how late it’s getting, the stress of the day- and be completely consumed in this moment of fun. He wants that in his life. He turns to Hope, realizing that if they date, Jungkook will at least--

Hope and Jin are both peering over at him already. Their lazy smiles and half hooded eyes make Yoongi curl into his space, something in them dangerous and teasing.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Hope drawls, scooting down the booth until he’s smooshing Yoongi into the wall.

“Nothing,” Yoongi grumbles through pouty lips. _Dumbass_ , he scolds himself.

“Nothing? That’s a weird name for my little brother. He looks like a lot more than nothing,” Jin teases, laughing before he even finishes his own joke.

“I wasn’t-”

“You weren’t what?” Hope asks, voice fucking obnoxious and slurred next to his ear. Yoongi shrugs him off and stands to weasel his way out from behind the table. And this conversation.

But Hope isn’t letting go that easily.

Stumbling back into their apartment, Hope and Yoongi shrug off their jackets, the cold miraculously not making its way into their tiny home.

“Dude,” Hope says before Yoongi even sits down. He grunts in acknowledgment, already heading towards his room. “You like him.”

“What?” Yoongi grumbles, already taking his outer layers off.

“You. like. Jungkook,” Hope wags his finger with each word.

“Yeah.”

Hope pauses, mouth dropping and eyebrows rising. “Yeah? Yeah? You aren’t gonna fight it?” Hope morphs his face into one of apathy. “Like, oooh nooo, that’s not true, fuck off, Hope.”

“But it is true.”

Hope blinks. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

Yoongi leans against the wall, running his hands through his hair. He already feels the hangover coming on. Hope had a knack for bringing it on early. “I told you the night of Jimin’s party.”

“You mean the one where you dragged me home drunk?”

Fair point, Yoongi thinks.

Hope scoffs. “Are you serious? Dude, Jungkook likes you. Like, he _really_ likes you.”

Yoongi scoffs back. Might as well tell him. “Dude, Jungkook _really_ likes _you_.”

Hope drops to the floor, face agape. Yoongi wonders if he’s really this taken aback, couldn’t see all the signs, maybe he feels-

But he bursts out laughing, grabbing his sides as he rolls around on the floor. “Oh my god, poor Jungkook. How are you this dense? Is this the power of a college degree?”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. “Why are you bringing my education into this?”

Hope wipes at his eyes before he starts howling again. Yoongi presses his lips into a line. He’s not dealing with this shit. Hope is clearly far more gone than he noticed. But when he turns to head to his room, Hope latches onto his pant leg.

“Yoongi, please listen carefully,” Hope giggles, using the holes in Yoongi’s jeans like a rock climbing wall. He puts both hands on Yoongi’s shoulders.

“Jungkook likes you.”

Yoongi puts his own hands on Hope’s shoulders.

“Hope, Jungkook likes you.”

Before Hope can keep talking Yoongi groans, loud and long, to cut off anything he has to say. “Listen, the kid stared me down because he thought I was your boyfriend. He keeps inviting you out everywhere. He always wants to help film your videos. He constantly asks me if you’re around.”

Hope’s bottom lip trembles as he bites down on it. “Yoongi, for the love of god, you are the dumbest genius I’ve ever met.”

“Bet,” Yoongi shrugs.

Hope’s eyes flicker between Yoongi’s, but Yoongi just stares back. Then, one of Hope’s devious, dangerous grins spreads across his face. The same one like when Yoongi doesn’t clean out the fridge when Hope’s asked him to for the third time and he’s about to fucking dump all the leftovers on his bedroom floor.

“Actually, let’s bet,” Hope says, voice calm and even. “I bet that Jungkook likes you. If I win, you have to dye your hair green.”

The clarity and sobriety in his voice make Yoongi recoil, but there’s something else. Something in Yoongi’s mind tells him not to take the bet. But that part of him is just hope. Sheer, useless hope.

And Jungkook likes hope, just not the kind Yoongi’s thinking of. And since Yoongi likes Jungkook, he should do that chivalrous shit and vet for his happiness.

“If I win, you have to give Jungkook a chance,” Yoongi retorts.

“Yeah, okay, _sure thing,_ ” Hope sighs with a shake of his head.

Hope slides off, giggling as he walks down the hall. “But there are a few things I want you to think about.”

Yoongi’s hand pauses on his doorknob, shooting Hope a glare for how long he’s delaying his return to bed.

Hope splays his hand before his face, just visible in the dark living room of their apartment. He starts ticking off his fingers.“I want you to think about why Jungkook comes in on your shifts. Why he’s finding reasons to talk to you. Why he wants to walk you home. Why we all leave you alone with him. Why he....”

Yoongi opens his door and closes it behind him, shaking his head as Hope continues down some long list about trying to make him jealous.

Wait.

“How did you know he tried to walk me home?”

All he gets in reply is a giggle. “I’ll go buy the hair dye.”

Yoongi frowns. The hallway is empty. Of course Hope would keep prattling on then disappear when Yoongi’s actually interested.

He falls onto his bed in a heap of exhaustion. Any day he had to be with the kid felt exhausting at this point. Yoongi constantly beat down his excitement, tried to maneuver the boy’s chances with Hope, and had to avoid his own infatuation whenever the kid talked about his big dreams and the practicality of his desires with four lamb skewers in his hand like some wise kindergartner.

Yoongi rubs at his eyes, trying to clear the memory from his mind.

He stares at the cracks in his ceiling. How did he end up in such a fucking annoying situation? Jungkook’s smiling face flashes across his mind from earlier in the night caught checking down his sweatshirt to make sure the beer hadn’t washed his abs away. With a groan, Yoongi throws the pillow over his head. Why does he have to get hard every time the kid even smiles?

* * *

“Yo,” Seokjin kicks Yoongi’s foot. Yoongi peeps up from where he naps on the stand. It’s the best time of the day: 2 pm. The grandmas have come and gone, but the moms have yet to arrive with their screaming and grumpy kids after school. It’s the ultimate nap hour for the dayshift.

So, of course, Seokjin would interrupt it.

“How can I help you?” Yoongi yawns, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He’d been up all night again working on the same song. He posted it on SoundCloud last week, but it completely flopped. So being the impatient asshat that he is, he immediately started redrafting it.

“What do you think Hope would say about you sleeping on the job?” Seokjin teases.

Seokjin had quickly gotten comfortable with Yoongi. Maybe it was the age thing. But Yoongi has a feeling it’s also just the man’s personality. He’s annoying, but he’s also quirky. Yoongi has to respect that an office worker would still have so much personality.

And of course, some part of him wants to get in good with the older brother.

“He’d tell you if you want to see something done right, do it yourself,” Yoongi snarks back.

Seokjin chuckles. He knows it’s true. He’s seen the way Hope claps back at Jimin’s whining about night shift.

“So, I have someone I want you to meet,” Jin says, eating the apple he hasn’t bought yet.

Yoongi squints at him. He doesn’t want to meet anyone. He’s already got his hands full with the few people he associates with.

“Before you get all grumpy, I think you’ll like this guy,” Jin continues. “He’s a childhood friend of ours. He also makes music.” Jin chews on another bite of apple. “Come over after work and meet him?”

“Inviting me to your house to meet a stranger makes you sound like a murderer,” Yoongi snuggles back into his arms.

Jin pouts. “You’ve been to my house plenty of times. C’mon. Jungkook will be there. Bring Hope, too.”

Yoongi’s ears quirk at that.

 _Bring Hope, too_.

That’s right. Jin’s clearly trying to set him up with someone. Why would Jin set him up with someone if his little brother has a crush on him? Maybe he can deliberately point out the signs to Hope. 

But now Hope is onto him. Yoongi needs to be clever.

“Jin!” Jimin calls from electronics. “Jin come play switch.”

Jin gives Yoongi a look before he turns to head over, but Jimin walks towards them.

“Yah,” Jin scolds. “How am I supposed to play if you come here?”

“Is Jungkookie not here?” Jimin asks with a frown. Yoongi stiffens a bit, unsure if he might suddenly appear from the lottery booth.

“At the gym,” Jin responds through his last bite of apple. He tosses it into Yoongi’s trash can, encroaching on Yoongi’s space. Yoongi assesses the core from where he still has his head tucked into his arms. Gym. Jungkook. Core. Jungkook’s core.

“Must be a sight,” Yoongi grumbles at the apple core. 

“Oh? Pray tell,” Seokjin asks, leaning onto Yoongi’s stand. Yoongi just swears in response. He’s really got to work on this talking in his head thing.

“Jinnie, don’t push it,” Jimin warns. Yoongi glances up, surprised that Jimin would stand up for him. But Jimin has the biggest, shit-eating grin on his face. “Let it happen naturally.”

“The only thing happening right now is your ass getting beat on that busted up display-Switch,” Jin says as he drags Jimin away from the registers.

“Hyung! I’m on your side!” Jimin chokes out from where Jin pulls his collar. Yoongi watches them go, ready for another nap.

When Yoongi gets home, he tries to think of a way to convince Hope to go without realizing what he’s up to.

“Hey,” Yoongi calls from the bathroom, waving the borrowed medicine into the hall. “I gotta go to Seokjin’s. The meds in the cabinet are the ones Jungkook gave me. Remember when Jungkook had me come over to get medicine specifically for you? Because he likes you? So why don’t you come with me and thank him in person for loving you so much that he gave you his own medicine?”

Oops. Yoongi’s useless lying motormouth went off again.

Hope peers in from the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe. “Uh huh. How about _you_ go over because Jungkook probably wants _you_ to come over.”

Yoongi pouts. “Why don’t you come with me just so the four of us are hanging out?”

Hope pouts back. “You guys just want free weed.”

“Fucking fine, then,” Yoongi grumbles as he shoves the meds in his pocket. 

On the street, Yoongi shoots a text in the group message created after dinner the other week. The walk is even colder than when he went to Jungkook’s.

Just for cold meds.

And now he’s going back, out of his way, on his evening off.

But you know, it’s important to be courteous when someone gives you something for free. It’s the least he can do. He imagines Jungkook’s wide eyes, eager to greet him, swinging the door open with a cheerful “Hyung!”

He bites back the smile on his lips, looking like an idiot smiling at the pavement.

He is an idiot.

An idiot who can’t get over some hot kid. Who happens to think he is cool. Who happens to also have big dreams. But a sensible mind. And a huge smile. And bad jokes. And amazing hands.

God the best hands.

When he walks up the steps to their front door, Yoongi is trying to control his thoughts.

What else is fucking new.

He knocks, but there’s no answer. His phone shows no new messages, so maybe neither of the boys knows he’s coming. Which is a fucking ridiculous, since Jin invited him over.

When he tries the door handle, it’s open. Wow, Jin wasn’t joking when he said “the door’s always open.” This is a really dangerous follow-through for a pun, Yoongi chides the Jin in his memory.

Remembering the way Tae invited himself in, he does the same. Once in the entryway, he only sees Jungkook’s faded converses on the shoe wrack. The cleanliness of their home is striking. He’d commented on it the second time he came over, only to find out Jungkook tended to be a neat freak, doing any dishes or laundry in sight.

Trophy husband material, godammit.

Yoongi’s snapped back from his appraisal when a noise comes from Jungkook’s room.

There’s a grunt and a whine. Yoongi chuckles to himself. Must not be doing well in a game (even though Jungkook’s “not doing well” is still exponentially better than everyone else, like when he still considered winning 4 out of 5 in Mario Kart a loss because it wasn’t 5 out of 5).

Yoongi slides his shoes off and creeps across the floor in his sock feet as he hears another grunt. There’s no animated pows or sniping sounds, so the boy must have headphones on. Yoongi takes advantage of the opportunity and readies to spook Jungkook, prepared to burst through the cracked bedroom door.

“Y-Yoongi,” Jungkook’s voice stutters.

Cold washes through Yoongi’s veins.

Oh, shit. Oh no. Something has happened. Has he been alone this whole fucking time waiting for someone to call 911? Yoongi rushes closer.

Another groan. Breathier, followed by a compressed sigh.

Yoongi’s fingers freeze inches from the doorknob, his body stalling as he realizes what he’s actually hearing.

“Yoon-” Jungkook’s cut off by his own breath sucking in.

Yoongi gulps. He can hear it now. The shuffling, the heavy breathing. Without moving, he shifts his gaze from his outstretched hand to the tiny view from the crack.

His veins run cold again for an entirely different reason. A burning so hot it feels like ice.

And he bolts.

Because right there, in the small sliver of the door, he got a glimpse of something he’d only dreamed of.

Jungkook, sitting in his desk chair, splayed out. In his goddamn grey joggers, waistband around his thighs, cock covered by a blurry fist. Jungkook’s head thrown back, throat bobbing as he swallowed down another moan, defined muscles of his sides clenching as he rolls his head forward, one hand pulling on the strands of his hair, jaw clenched tight.

He only saw it for an instant, but it’s seared in his mind. 

Yoongi dashes back to the door, biting his tongue when he trips on the edge of the carpet. He shoves his feet in his shoes, opens the door, and almost slams it with nerves. He falls against the opposite wall, hand running through his hair.

That… was so hot.

Yoongi covers his face.

And definitely not consensual.

How the fuck does he apologize for accidentally catching Jungook jerking off? Jungkook was...

Yoongi can’t help but smirk at that. 

Jungkook was calling his name.

The little shit.

He had a crush on him.

Oh fuck.

The kid had a crush on him.

His heart ricochets inside his chest, bouncing between joy and fear and guilt and idiocy and… Yoongi pulls on the edges of his smile, trying to conceal his gums, as he rummages in his back pocket for his phone. He continues to massage his cheeks under control as he texts Jungkook with one hand.

_I’m here._

There’s a sudden crash on the other side of the door, followed by a second, much louder tumble. A minute later, a red-faced, out-of-breath Jungkook rips the door open. It’s not the face Yoongi imagined greeting him, but this is so, so much better.

“Hyung!” Jungkook greets, eyes unable to conceal his nerves. They immediately dart from Yoongi’s as soon as they meet. “You’re early.”

“No,” Yoongi answers, trying not to notice how Jungkook’s tucked part of his shirt into his pants. “I never said when I was coming exactly.”

“Oh, uh, wow,” Jungkook rolls his lips between his teeth, scratching his head as he looks apologetically at the floor. His eyebrows raise. “Did you… take your shoes off out here?”

Yoongi glances down. He’d only shoved his feet in them in a hurry. He looks up at Jungkook. For a second, terror flashes in Jungkook’s face, the muscles in his jaw ticking. Yoongi remembers the last time it clenched.

A hundred thoughts flash through Yoongi’s mind at the same time. _I wear my shoes like this, what do you mean?_ Too sassy, too weird. _I heard you jacking off._ And admit that he totally accidentally was a peeping pervert? _Do you like me? I like you._ He couldn’t. Because in that moment. Yoongi realizes.

He realizes he is in fact an idiotic genius. And his mind doesn’t have time to reel through all the signs he missed. Or blurt out how old Jungkook is. Or blurt out he may have seen his dick already.

And so his best option is to play it cool until he can go home and stare at the ceiling after groaning into his pillow for an hour or two.

“You took so long I almost did,” Yoongi grumbles as he pushes passed the boy and into his apartment for the second time. It’s the same room he just admired, but something feels different. And it’s not just the upturned edge of the carpet. There’s something there.

It’s the urge to turn around and help Jungkook finish what he’d started.

“No one else home?” Yoongi asks, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets before he does something stupid.

“N-no,” Jungkook answers, shuffling into the kitchen to grab drinks. “Jin will be back soon, though.”

Jungkook comes over with drinks. His muscles contract as he twists off the bottle cap, the veins still protruding from his earlier… workout. Yoongi licks his dry lips. Oh god, now that’s all he’ll think about when _he_ ’s jerking off.

Jungkook hands him a beer. Their fingers brush. Yoongi remembers the last time they stood in the living room. When Jungkook said he liked…

Yoongi groans, the sound loud and obtrusive in the awkward silence. He’s an idiot.

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook says, the beer slipping out of his lips. He wipes it on the back of his sleeve.

“What?” Yoongi falls back in a chair and takes a sip. “Do I have something to be worried about?”

 _Like the fact that I may be getting hard in your living room while I still don’t know if you are even old enough to be fantasizing about?_ Yoongi scolds himself.

“No!” Jungkook shouts, then also falls onto the couch. He slouches to one side, then to the other, then settles for sitting up straight in the middle.

Yoongi conceals his smile with another sip. The fidgeting. It all... Makes sense. Yoongi takes another sip. The sadist in him enjoys that he somehow made Jungkook squirm by being so oblivious.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to admit how oblivious he was.

“I just… I don’t know if you want to hang out with me,” Jungkook’s voice ends in a whisper, hands tucked between his thighs.

Yoongi looks at the boy. Despite his (incredibly hot) built frame, he has a childlike aura with his shoulder bunched, lips puckered in concern.

He knows he’s in college. But he’s definitely under 21. How under 21 is that? Yoongi prays it’s close. That it’s not too weird that he really, really wants this kid to be older. That he really, really wants to take those hands out from between his legs and hold them in his own and knows that it may actually be a possibility now.

“I want to hang with you,” the words come out of Yoongi’s mouth before he can stop them. He’s relieved it sounded cool and collected, not like the sudden crisis he’s having that he might be a perverted old man with a barely-legal fantasy.

Jungkook’s head snaps up. He almost launches off the couch, but he digs his finger into the edge of the cushion. Part of Yoongi wants Jungkook to launch at him.

“That’s cool.” Jungkook clears his throat. “Super cool.”

“Just like me,” Yoongi teases. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook leans back again, looking a bit more relaxed. Yoongi can’t help following his thighs as they drop open.

The boys sip their beers in silence for a few minutes. Yoongi spreads out on the couch, trying to appear comfortable. Jungkook keeps glancing up, his muscles tensing like he’s making to move, but never does.

Yoongi wants him to.

And then Yoongi realizes something. He doesn’t want to do anything. He won’t do anything.

He wants Jungkook to follow through.

The boy’s been working hard for months. Yoongi’s made it hard enough. Yoongi’s petty. He knows it. He had to tamper it down and skulk around for months. Now he has the upper hand. He wants to enjoy this. Now he has the chance to recognize the next time Jungkook makes a move. 

The cards are finally fucking in his hands.

But as soon as the door opens, Jungkook jumps off the couch, startling Yoongi. “Okay, well, I’m gonna finish up my studies while you and Jin talk.”

“Have fun studying,” Yoongi snickers. Something akin to horror flickers through Jungkook’s eyes before he’s tearing down the hall just as Jin comes in.

“You’re early?” Jin asks, stepping into the living room and craning his neck to watch the last of Jungkook disappear. He shrugs a pink jacket off only to reveal a pink hoodie underneath.

“You never gave me a time,” Yoongi says again.

“Jungkook,” Jin starts, going into the kitchen to get his own beer. “Did he chat with you?”

Yoongi wants to smack himself in the head. How many times had people made little comments like this? “Yeah. He thinks I’m cool.”

Jin chuckles, sitting down. “I bet he does.”

Both boys take a sip of their beers. Jin decompressed from wherever he’d been.

Yoongi gets the feeling that Jin may be an introvert. The loudest introvert he’s ever met.

Yoongi remembers why he’s here. Which actually, now, it doesn’t make sense why Jin is trying to set him up. Unless… he doesn’t approve?

That irks Yoongi. Yoongi’s a pretty great guy. Jin seems to be Jungkook’s guardian. What the fuck did he do to lose his favor?

“Where’s your friend?” Yoongi asks. “Thought you were setting me up with a hot date.”

Jin’s beer almost comes out of his nose. He bursts into a coughing fit, then giggles. “Oh my god, that would be hilarious.”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. “You said there was someone you wanted me to meet.”

Jin laughs again, clapping his hands as he leans back in the old chair. “Not like that. Oh my god. Jungkook said you produce?”

Suddenly it doesn’t seem so weird that everyone keeps mentioning things Jungkook has said about him. Yoongi nods, hoping he’s not blushing.

“So my friend, he couldn’t come today,” Jin continues, “Because he had to go back to his studio. You may have heard of him on SoundCloud as RM.”

Yoongi’s beer slips from his hand, almost spilling over his lap. He stares at Jin, wide-eyed.

“RM?”

Jin nods, a smug quirk to his lips.

“You’re trying to tell me that you’re buddies with RM?” Yoongi doesn’t know why he’s questioning it. Jin only listens to radio pop. There’s no other way he’d know someone like RM even existed.

“Yep, we went to middle school together. He’s coming into town this weekend. I wanted to hook you guys up,” Jin continues, eyes fondly gazing into the distance.

Yoongi’s heart races. Shit. Fucking shit. What on earth did he do to be blessed by the gods?

That’s actually a good point.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Yoongi asks.

“What do you mean? You’ve been so good to my brother, I just thought I’d exchange the favor,” Jin waves him off. It’s a tad suspicious.

“How have I been good to your brother?” Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow. Is Jin hinting at what he thinks he’s hinting at? The fuck are these brothers so cryptic for?

“Let’s just say I’m paying it forward,” Jin says with puckered lips.

Yoongi squints a little longer, sizing Jin up. He needs this. He really needs a connection like this. In the music industry, it’s all about networking. And RM is in the sweet spot of being popular but not so popular that he won’t bat an eye at Yoongi.

“I’ll… pay it back then.”

Jin’s head swivels, eyebrows shooting into his fringe. The longer he stares at Yoongi’s face, the greater the dawn of realization grows.

“Did you just tell me--”

Yoongi clanks his beer on their coffee table, stretching with a loud groan. “I’ll be heading out then.”

When Yoongi finally shuts the door to his own apartment, he remembers the medicine still in his pocket. With a sigh, he drops it on the coffee table, hands held out for the bong Hope already has set up.

Yoongi takes a hit, dragging long and hard, sucking in the smoke cooled by the ice cubes stacked to the brim.

“Okay,” he starts before blowing the smoke out, “I believe you.”

Blood-shot eyes narrow at him. “What?”

“About Jungkook,” Yoongi clarifies, tucking his chin into his jacket before turning on his heel.

“Why?” Hope asks as Yoongi heads to his room.

“Seeing is believing,” Yoongi can’t hide the smile in his voice.

“What?” Hope shouts, but Yoongi’s already closed his door, ready to pass out and dream of Jungkook’s arms and hands with reckless abandon.

“This means I’m dying your hair green, right?”

Fuck him, seriously.

* * *

Jungkook looks fucking spectacular today. He’s gotten a new haircut, styled the long hair a bit more. And boy is he trying to fuck Yoongi up with those shredded black jeans as he leans to one side, trying to swipe his card at checkout.

It’s almost so distracting that Yoongi doesn’t notice it’s Friday night, and Jungkook’s alone, with a six-pack in the bagging area. Well, other than his own god-given six-pack.

“Wow,” Yoongi sneers from the cash register. Jungkook turns to him with a beaming smile, six-pack in both hands. Yoongi tries to grimace to avoid the way his heart just jumped in his throat. “Getting bold now that we’re all chummy, huh?”

Jungkook nods, scanning both the drinks. Yoongi’s jaw drops at the cockiness. And his dick fills out a bit.

“You little shit, you think I’m going to break the law for you?” Yoongi smacks the countertop. Jungkook giggles, and for a second, Yoongi wonders if he’s high. But even high Jungkook isn’t this ballsy.

Pulling out his wallet, Jungkook shuffles over to Yoongi, almost dancing. He pulls out his ID. With another giggle, he hands the card over.

Yoongi snatches it up, eyes narrowed at Jungkook. He looks down to see Jungkook in the same outfit, face neutral thus looking like a deer in the headlights, and the birthdate matches today.

Yoongi sighs, tapping the card against Jungkook’s wallet. “Did you seriously come over here to flaunt your fake ID?”

Jungkook’s expression drops a bit, then he starts giggling again. When Yoongi doesn’t laugh, he pouts. And oh god, it’s so fucking adorable Yoongi wants to say something to make him look even sadder.

He’s fucking whipped.

“Hyung, it’s my birthday!” Jungkook whines. He goes to get his ID back, but Yoongi raises it up, thankful for the extra height his stool gives him.

“You expect me to believe that?” Yoongi taunts, appreciating the way Jungkook’s shirt lifts a bit as he jumps for the ID.

Jungkook huffs. He cups his hands around his mouth. “Taehyungie!”

Before Yoongi can scold him for shouting in the store, Taehyung shouts back “Yeah?”

Yoongi wipes a hand down his face as two customers in regular check-out try to watch what’s happening.

“Oh shit!” Yoongi cringes as Taehyung swears loudly, his voice closer. “It’s the birthday boy!” He cheers, appearing from women’s clothing. Yoongi isn’t even going to ask why he was on the opposite side of the store from his station.

Taehyung runs and jumps onto Jungkook, who takes him in with open arms.

Yoongi blinks as Jungkook spins Taehyung around before dropping him to the ground. It looks more like a lovers' reunion than a birthday hug. No wonder Jimin thought they should get together.

Back to the issue at hand.

“Wait, it’s actually your birthday?” Yoongi questions.

Taehyung tilts his head, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. “Hyung, that’s a weird thing to lie about.”

“You literally told me you lied about your birthday to get free sprinkles at IHOP.”

Taehyung laughs sheepishly, shoulders tucking in. “Okay, but it’s Jungkookie’s big birthday! He’s legal!”

Yoongi’s heart falls. Oh shit, he really had a crush on a minor.

“Yep!” Jungkook sings. “I’m 21!”

Yoongi’s spirits lift. And his heart races. “You dumbasses, that’s drinking age. Legal age is 18.”

“Why does that matter?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi sputters. Yeah, you dumbass, Yoongi thinks to himself, why does it matter? Are you going to confess right here in your tacky-ass uniform your undying love for a kid only after you got the confidence from seeing him fist his dick calling out your name?

Instead, he gives Jungkook his ID back. “Happy birthday, brat,” he grumbles. Jungkook beams again, trotting over once Yoongi’s approved his purchase.

“Hyung!” Jungkook says, jumping up and down next to Yoongi. “Have a drink with me?”

 _Fuck yes,_ Yoongi wants to answer. He just wants to stare at Jungkook’s cute smile, make him pout again, watch his legs flex in those shredded skinny jeans.

“I’m working.”

Jungkook’s face falls. Taehyung bursts into giggles. Yoongi somehow feels bad he has to decline because he’s on the clock.

“Okay,” Jungkook says quietly.

Fuck.

“We can have a drink for your birthday later. I bet y’all are doing something right?” Yoongi eyes Taehyung, for once hoping to be dragged into shenanigans.

Jungkook brightens. Jimin has now appeared because you can’t have just two stooges.

“We are!” Jimin cheers, running over. “Tomorrow.”

“Even though I have to work tomorrow like an adult,” Jungkook scrunches his nose.

“Call out,” Yoongi offers.

Jimin blanches “Hyung, you are a shit influence.”

Yoongi shrugs and ignores Jimin. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s eyes disappear as his face fights between smiling and laughing, and Yoongi smiles back. Taehyung and Jimin stare at the rare sight. Jungkook’s cheeks turn bright red, and it only makes Yoongi smile wider, gums and all.

Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can take off your gas masks, they finally gonna clear the air.  
> If you do not follow me on tumblr (Joopiterjoon) then you may not know: I am back at work, so updates will be slower :(  
> ALSO, if you are liking this series, I read "Love me Lights Out" by marienadine the other day and it felt like the same kind of Jungkook but it's from his POV. you may like it, too!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi struggles with controlling his mouth, among other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, LAST CHAPTER I called Hope Hoseok a few times. It was an accident. He's Hope. There's a reason.  
> Lol oops let’s pretend Jungkook’s birthday is in early spring xD  
> The song Taehyung dances to is “Arriba” by Little Big and Clean Bandit

Saturdays are by far the worst shifts. Business people have the day free, kids are out of school, yadayada. It means angry customers and conniving shoplifters. Above all, it means a hassle for Yoongi, who did his best to wave off both kinds of villains.

To top it off, Taehyung stalks him like a bird of prey, hovering between different aisles in electronics, giggling like a little imp.

Yoongi knows why. Hope and his big fuckin mouth told Taehyung as soon as he found out Yoongi likes Jungkook. And if Taehyung knows, he does not doubt that everyone, including Jungkook, knows.

Yoongi isn't keeping it a secret. And honestly, it would help if Taehyung’s loud mouth said something to Jungkook. But this kind of childish behavior is what he wanted to avoid.

After an hour of swooping in and out of view, Taehyung comes on over to Yoongi’s station. Thankfully, he’s picked a time when the store is less crowded. Regretfully, Yoongi has no escape route.

Taehyung plops his face in his hands and leans on the register station. He whisper-yells, “I know.”

Yoongi stares ahead, hoping his sigh expresses how tired he already is. “You know what, Taehyung?”

“I know what you want Jungkook to say to you,” Taehyung says. He swings back and forth to get Yoongi’s attention. Yoongi leans back, readjusting on his stool. He doesn’t like the smile on Taehyung’s face.

“And what’s that?”

Taehyung jogs backward to his actual post. Yoongi thinks he’s done being a nuisance, maybe he wants to appear cryptic. But he should know better.

The bass starts pumping from the display speakers. Taehyung situates himself between women’s clothing and produce. The opening acts as a stage where Taehyung readies himself to perform. Yoongi hopes no one notices this idiot.

The dance beat shifts to sassy trumpets and a techno-pulse. With a shimmy of his hips, Taehyung starts humping into the air. And of course, Jimin appears from somewhere back in the aisles, probably doing his actual job, to clap and cheer.

When the verse comes in, Taehyung jabs a finger in Yoongi’s general direction, hip-thrusting forward.

“I, I wanna do you all my life,” Taehyung mouths to the words, feet bouncing forward. “I wanna you to hold me tight.” He wraps his arms around his waist and turns, doing an impressive job mimicking a couple making out. “I wanna keep you up all night.” Jimin now jumps to center stage with a leaping hip thrust. Taehyung barely stays standing as he breaks into a fit of giggles. Both boys mirror lewd expressions and gestures to the beat.

Yoongi pulls his phone from his pocket. 

“Hope? Yeah,” he shouts over the music, “we gotta rearrange the floorplan to get these jackasses as far from me as possible.”

Jimin and Taehyung are locked in salsa when Hope appears from the back. They both squeal, Taehyung yanks his phone from the display speaker, and takes off through the store as Hope stalks after them. Hope’s true power manifests as his eyebrows bounce from fierce to appeasing as he alternates between catching Taehyung and apologizing to customers, set jaw and gentle smile giving Yoongi whiplash even from afar. 

Sighing in relief, Yoongi rubs at his eyes. He tries to grind out the image of Jungkook holding him tight.

A few more hours and he’d be at Jungkook’s birthday dinner. In a few hours, maybe… maybe something will happen.

Yoongi ignores the mother who doesn't realize she needs to press "credit card" in order to use one and just digs his palms in harder. He’s a fucking idiot. Over the last few days, he’s been faced with what a dumbass he is. Jungkook, staring him down, inviting him over, trying to pay for his food, wanting to walk him home, even saying he liked him. The kid had tried so many times to convey his feelings.

Yoongi really is an idiot. A genius, but an idiot.

And Yoongi is an impatient fuck. He can’t handle waiting around for Jungkook to keep tripping over his words like an adorable loser. He wants to know why. Why the fuck Jungkook, body like a jock and heart of gold, would like Yoongi, body like a grandpa and heart like a piece of coal.

But Yoongi can't ask that until Jungkook confesses. Now that he’s come to terms with what an idiot he is, Yoongi sees all the hard work Jungkook’s put in. With how competitive he is, he might be crushed if Yoongi confesses first.

He mulls over his concerns unbothered by Taehyung, who may be hanging by his toes in the back room, for the rest of the shift.

When the time comes to close, Yoongi's nerves are worked up. He rushes through the registers and sweeps the floor at a speed that alarms the part-timers. Dropping in the daily deposit and filling out the til, Yoongi shoves the very last drawer closed. He heads to the back, grabs his jacket, and shouts out into the store.

But no one is there.

“Yo, let’s go!” Yoongi calls out.

No one responds again.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Yoongi waits to see if Hope shouts at him not to swear.

Motherfuckers.

Yoongi stomps over to the doors which are already locked. They left him. How the fuck did they all sneak out without him knowing? Yoongi seethes as he imagines Taehyung and Jimin shushing each other as they sneak passed Yoongi grumbling at the cash registers.

Yoongi is not in the mood to play games today. He is on a mission. He smashes his fingers on the call screen.

“You motherfuckers, you ditched me?” He growls when Taehyung answers. “How the fuck am I supposed to get to wherever dinner is?”

Taehyung laughs on the other end, which only pisses Yoongi off more.

“You think this is funny? Why wou--”

“Jungkook’s coming to pick you up,” Taehyung says cheerily. “We told him you were still at the store, bye!”

The phone cuts off. The crackled cackling is replaced by the stale quiet of the supermarket.

Oh.

Okay.

Yoongi can deal with that.

Yoongi unlocks and relocks the doors, checks the exterior, then stares out into the parking lot. Was Jungkook walking back? Was he with Jin?

Shoulders hunched up against the cold, Yoongi’s lip curls up in distaste of the temperature drop. No one seems to be around. The place is surprisingly scarce for a weekend. Usually, there are teenagers meeting up to hotbox or the shoe store is oddly packed on a weekend evening.

The unique bubbling sound of an exposed motor echoes in the distance. Yoongi turns, attention absently drawn. But he finds his shoulders dropping, tongue darting out to wet suddenly parched lips.

Even in the helmet, he knows exactly who it is. Yoongi’s blood pressure rises with the sound of the motor closing in. The Harley rolls up to the side of the supercenter and twists to a stop. The owner’s thick thighs drop to the side, and a tattered old converse balances the bike.

The man straightens in the seat, leather jacket fighting against flexed arms as he digs under the helmet strap. When he tilts his chin to yank the helmet off, Yoongi zones in on the vein going up the right side of his neck.

Holy fuck.

Jungkook shakes out his hair, probably damp with the sweat off his forehead.

Yoongi’s never seen such a pristine forehead.

Jungkook tucks the helmet under his arm. His jacket rides up with each roll of his shoulders, exposing his shirt tucked into his pants. Fuck, his waist looks so trim against thighs plumped on the bike.

Yoongi forgets he needs to breathe to keep existing in this very real, very hot moment.

Then it’s broken. The man on the motorcycle morphs into a boy when Jungkook’s nose scrunches, buck teeth front-lining his big smile.

“Surprise!” He shouts, waving to the bike.

Yoongi blinks twice, still reeling from which events in life led him to his crush rolling up in some kind of biker fantasy getup.

God, Jungkook looks so fuckable in leather.

“Surprise?” Yoongi echoes, hoping his voice crack wasn’t noticeable.

Jungkook dismounts from the bike with precision, and Yoongi stares at his thighs, specifically the way the pleather pants pull at his crotch. He thinks about how that material must have been tough to get over his legs. Maybe he’d have to peel it off.

“Jin-hyung got me a motorcycle! For my birthday!” Jungkook bounces on his heels, pointing at the bike like Yoongi couldn’t connect the dots himself.

“Why would that be a surprise to me?” Yoongi asks, staring at Jungkook rather than his bike. The real surprise is how fast Yoongi popped a boner in the supercenter parking lot.

“Oh,” Jungkook’s face drops a bit as he considers. “Because!” he snaps back, “I came to pick you up instead of Taehyung.”

Yoongi hums. That’s why the fuckers left him. They’re playing matchmakers.

He nods to himself as the pieces connect. But really, he’s stalling. Stalling the fact that Jungkook managed to become hotter somehow, and if he takes a step his dick might inflate the front of his pants.

Shit, he needs to say something. Jungkook’s smile is falling again and Yoongi definitely doesn’t want that. “I was wondering how you picked up the alcohol by yourself yesterday.”

Jungkook’s shoulders scrunch up, something Yoongi noticed is a sign of humored embarrassment. “I wanted you to ask.”

Yoongi scoffs. Of course, he did. Yoongi teases, “Well maybe you should just tell me straight up instead of hoping people will know whatever you want to say.”

Jungkook just shrugs. This motherfucker isn’t picking up what he’s putting down.

Yoongi’s just as bad. He should just tell Jungkook’s the only reason he’d be proud to rock a stiffy in this godforsaken dump.

“Exactly. What you want. To say,” Yoongi tries again, but he gets nervous, rubbing at his ear. 

The words bubble in Jungkook’s mouth. His lips form around different words, cheeks turning pinker, and Yoongi can feel his own goddamn cheeks heat up. The fear, the earnestness, it all flashes through Jungkook’s eyes as his brows set lower.

“Do you…”

“Yes?” Yoongi breathes, scared what will happen if he lets the breath out. Yoongi’s heart might bounce out of his throat if he opens his mouth, so he waits.

Jungkook takes a deep breath. Yoongi’s pulse is already threatening to burst his eardrums.

“Do you want a ride?” Jungkook practically shouts, turning away to jab a finger at the Harley. The question reverberates a bit in the empty parking lot. 

Yoongi lets out the breath he’s been holding. Goddammit.

“Isn’t that why you came over?” Yoongi asks. He can hear the agitation in his voice. Who could blame him? Jungkook’s so fucking hot and he has a boner in the parking lot and he’s getting emotionally blue-balled.

Jungkook swivels back, tongue in cheek. There’s agitation in his own features. Almost angry, but his eyes look like they are glistening a bit. “No! What I meant to ask was… was…”

Oh god, there goes Yoongi’s heart rate again.

“Come with me to dinner!”

Yoongi watches the defeat color Jungkook’s features. At this point, Yoongi’s too pissed at his dick. But when Jungkook licks under his upper lip, Yoongi’s own tongue tries to mimic the motion.

He’s completely enraptured by this shy kid. Who looks like he might cry. Oh shit, is he gonna cry?

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner together,” Jungkook grumbles with a scuff of his shoe, handling the helmet and trying to feign disinterest. God, he’s so annoyed with himself. “On my bike.”

It’s fucking adorable.

All that teasing he’s been holding back on is cracking through with each new encounter. Yoongi smirks, stepping closer to Jungkook. Jungkook gulps.

Goddamn, he still smells sweet even under the gas and leather.

“Why?” Yoongi asks, craning his head over Jungkook’s shoulder at the bike. “Sit on the back like I’m your bitch?”

Jungkook’s eyes somehow widen further. If half the lights in the lot weren’t out, Yoongi could probably see his reflection in those deep brown pools. They’re so pretty when they’re outlined by the dusty pink of Jungkook’s cheeks. 

“H-hyung, no- I mean, not like-”

“Oh, was I right?” Yoongi muses, concentrating on the pout of Jungkook’s lips. Everything in Yoongi wants to close the space. But he doesn’t. He gives Jungkook the chance to close the space. And maybe, just to give him a little push, Yoongi adds, “You’re naughty.”

It’s his birthday, might as well give his imagination something more to jack off to. 

Jungkook’s mouth bobs like a fish.

Before he can speak, Yoongi snatches the helmet from Jungkook and walks over to the bike.

“Let’s go,” Yoongi says. While his back faces Jungkook, he shuffles his hard-on in his pants. He glances at the bike, not sure how to get on.

“Jungkook, are you--” he almost has to hold back a laugh. Jungkook’s still in the same position, arm still outlining where the helmet should have been.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, just unfreezes, clears his throat, and walks over.

When Jungkook settles into the seat, scooting back, and Yoongi leans forward. He’s shaken by how natural it feels to wrap his arms around Jungkook’s waist. He staves off the shudder, feeling trimness of his waist beneath his arms. Something about it feels so comforting, so at home. He lines up to his back. Everything in him urges to snuggle closer. Still, he tries to leave a bit of room.

Jungkook steadies the bike to start. Yoongi may be getting more than he bargained for.

He’s never ridden a motorcycle. He hasn’t ridden in much besides Sudans and Jin’s truck. He barely even rides a bicycle.

“Hyung,” Jungkook muffles from under the helmet as he kicks the pedal, playing with the throttle. Yoongi has his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, watching the way his knuckles twist on the handle. “Let me know if I need to slow down.”

“Yeah, yeah, start driving before I--WOAH,” Yoongi cries out as Jungkook whips out of the parking lot, taking the ramp to the main road and barely looking before swerving into the middle lane. Yoongi clings to Jungkook for dear life, the comforting moment from earlier completely gone.

Jungkook reaches down to squeeze Yoongi’s arm in assurance.

“Keep your eyes on the goddamn road, fast and furious!” Yoongi shouts over the wind. He can feel Jungkook’s body shake with a laugh as the speed drops, lazily swaying in the lane. 

Whenever Jungkook swerves, he grabs onto Yoongi’s hand in warning. It’s soft like he’s scared he’ll spook Yoongi each time he touches him. Yoongi wishes he could untwine his fingers and snag Jungkook’s hand, but that would most likely end in them both being dead.

After a minute or two, he finds the ride soothing. The way Jungkook leans side to side, coasting down the lanes, mimics the feel of a boat. Yoongi misses living back home where he could hop on a boat any time of year. The pleasant memories mixed with the warmth of Jungkook fill his mind. Eventually, he’s riding with his eyes closed (arms still held tight, of course).

They pull up to the restaurant just as the sun sets. Jungkook pats Yoongi’s arm one more time, straightening up to remove his helmet. Yoongi does the same, handing the thing to Jungkook as he gets off. His feet wobble beneath him, the ground already feeling like a foreign terrain after the 20-minute ride.

“Holy shit,” Yoongi grumbles, grabbing onto Jungkook’s shoulder. Standing, he realizes he is most definitely turned on by leather jacket biker Jungkook. “I see why people say riding one of those things is like sex.”

Jungkook chokes, hands dashing to rest in his lap. Yoongi rolls his lips to avoid cackling at Jungkook covering his crotch.

“C’mon, it’s your party,” Yoongi says with a wave and hears Jungkook fumble with both helmets before chasing after him. Yoongi manages to adjust his own boner into the waistband of his pants before he gets to the door.

“Damn, you guys manage to find a new place every week,” Yoongi notes. Today’s joint is small, tucked between some highrises. The old, wood paneling and blinking sign serve as a testament to its time, claiming the space long before gentrification began. Yoongi likes the character of the place already.

“Yeah, Jin’s big into food,” Jungkook shrugs. “He said you can get a shit ton of meat here, so I said yes. I love meat. A shit ton of meat is my kind of birthday.”

“Really? You’re usually so quiet, didn’t think a bar would be your birthday choice,” Yoongi tilts his head towards Jungkook as they step inside. They’re greeted by humid, smokey air. There’s no hostess, just groups of strangers crowded around small grills, jackets thrown to the floor. Yoongi nods, pleased with the casual atmosphere.

“No, I mean, it’s not. I’m not a bar guy, if you don’t like bar guys,” Jungkook stumbles out. When Yoongi starts to smirk, Jungkook runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I mean, I’m not a bar guy. This is for you guys. Tomorrow we are hanging at my place. If… if you want to come.”

Yoongi turns to see Jungkook bouncing on his toes, looking around the place. “That’s the most you’ve ever said to me in one go.”

Jungkook blinks. “It… I… I’m kind of-” Something catches his eye and he darts off around Yoongi.

“Namjoonie-hyung!” Jungkook calls. He flings his arms over the shoulder of a man with purple hair, hunched next to Jin.

Yoongi’s feet feel like lead on the floor as he watches the guy who purposely died his hair to look like a fucking grape ruffle Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook takes the seat closest to him, leaving the only opening between tweedle dee and tweedle dum. He beams over at the stranger, bouncing on his crate.

The man’s dimples crease deep into his cheeks around a shy smile. Yoongi’s stomach flips when he clamps a hand on Jungkook’s thigh, shaking it affectionately.

Who the fuck is Namjoonie. 

“Who the fuck is Namjoonie?” Yoongi hisses as soon as he sits down. Taehyung and Jimin are, as expected, unphased by the irritation radiating off Yoongi. They trade a devilish glance and busy themselves with the grill.

“Yoongi!” Jin sings, cheeks already a little pink. “This is who I wanted you to meet! Joon-ah!” He slaps Namjoon’s back. The man chokes on his drink and sends Yoongi a pleasant smile.

Yoongi’s jaw drops.

RM, the rapper storming Soundcloud, sits across from him. This grape-colored Jungkook-stealing dimpled-shithead.

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi,” Namjoon nods, schooling his face when Yoongi gives no reply.

It clicks. In his moment of professional greeting, Yoongi sees the RM he knows from online. The daring eyes, the plush lips, the tousled purple hair. On the albums, he looks calm and cold.

But here, in this bar with friends, he looks like a fucking teddy bear.

A teddy bear that Jungkook has not stopped staring at. Jungkook scoots his crate even closer, looking so small next to the man. Shit, he’s tall. Even on the crate, his knees are crammed behind the grill.

“Hey, Yoongles, did you and Jungkook come together?” Hope asks over the rim of his glass, wiggling his eyebrows. He leans against one of the many exposed pipes in the place, a smug grin on his face.

“We did,” Yoongi answers. He sends a smile to Jungkook. "Just us."

In the middle of calling for more beers, Jungkook freezes at the sight of Yoongi’s smile. Yoongi smirks as he initiates a challenge to Namjoon.

But Namjoon has already caught on, eyes narrowed as he leans back in his seat, arms crossed. An amused smile dances on his lips. He's fucking asking for it.

“Nice bike you got him, Jin,” Yoongi continues, still staring at the teddy bear. “Rode great.”

Jin is oblivious, clapping and shooting two thumbs-up. “I am by far the best older brother, right Kookie?” Jin beams, but when he receives no affirmation, he shifts to Jungkook. “Hey! Boy I just bought a bike! Aren’t I the best?”

Jungkook startles, recovering from his frozen state. “World’s number one brother,” he mutters, then rises so quickly the grill's grate jostles. 

“Hyung!” He shouts at Yoongi.

Yoongi flinches back a bit, unsure if he’s pissed him off somehow. Jungkook swallows, his eyes wild.

“I’m going to get you a drink.” He turns on his heel. Yoongi blanches, unsure if he should follow or not. When Namjoon watches Jungkook walk away, Yoongi seethes. Who’s he to watch his boy from behind?

“Yoongi-ah,” Taehyung shakes his head with a heavy sigh, “You’re a dangerous man.”

“What the fuck?” Yoongi smacks Taehyung over the head. Something he wishes he could do to Namjoon. Why the fuck does his chance at stardom also want a chance with Jungkook? “The fuck did I do?”

“Yoongi,” Jimin coos from the other side. Yoongi swivels in the other direction. He’s going to be dizzy in between these idiots. Jimin barely manages to get out before breaking into giggles, “You’ve got a really cute smile.”

“So,” the Namjoon guy starts, “Jin says you produce music.”

Yoongi shrugs off his jacket, straightening his worn jean jacket underneath. Namjoon’s own shirt probably costs more than his whole outfit. “That’s right. Only some stuff on the side.”

“It’s good shit, my dude,” Hope interjects, tipping his half-empty beer in Namjoon’s direction. “Quality underground stuff.”

“Jin says I should look into you,” Namjoon says.  _ Look into?  _ Yoongi tries to remain casual, but he knows Jin saw him bristle. He knows because Jin sends him a very deliberate warning not to fuck this up.

But Yoongi doesn’t like the sound of it, like Yoongi is beneath him, like Yoongi doesn’t need to look into Namjoon.

“I make most of my own stuff, but my beats are shit,” Namjoon shrugs when Yoongi doesn’t respond, taking another beer. 

“Good thing mine aren’t,” Yoongi counters. Namjoon’s smile twitches a bit at that. He's enjoying this, Yoongi realizes. he thinks he has the upper hand with the way he acts all modest with Jungkook by his side.

Jungkook returns to the table, about seven beers balanced in his arms. Namjoon turns to say something, but Yoongi’s determined to beat him to it.

“Jungkook!” Yoongi calls, and the boy almost misses his crate as he sits back down. Yoongi takes one of the beers with a nod. “What does the birthday boy want?”

Jungkook’s cheeks darken from the heat of the grill. Yoongi’s distracted by Taehyung gesturing to his right, but Jungkook kicks Taehyung’s shins before Yoongi can see what he’s up to.

“Whatever you guys want,” Jungkook decides, glaring at whiny Taehyung.

“How about we get the kalbi? We got to go big!” Hope smacks the counter. “Ma’am! Two orders of kalbi. 5 sojus!”

From somewhere in the restaurant a woman calls back the order.

“You better be sharing, you lightweight,” Yoongi warns Hope. 

Hope holds his hands out in front of his chest. “I’m just getting the party started.”

“By the way, I’m funding this party,” Namjoon says.

The declaration elates Jungkook. “Really?” Namjoon nods, rubbing at Jungkook’s back. Jungkook turns to yell out 4 more orders.

Yoongi scowls at the floor. He can’t beat a monetary competition.

And little does Hope know what he’s started as Namjoon and Yoongi trade another heated glare. 

Eight bottles later, half the table uses each other for support while the other half loudly rambles over each other.

But Yoongi and Namjoon are still shot for shot.

“Jungkook’s like my little brother,” Namjoon slurs, tipping the drink to Jungkook who currently tries to fit an entire uncut chunk of meat into his mouth.

“How nice,” Yoongi says curtly.

“I’d do anything for him, including taking off work just to see him,” Namjoon says, filling both their shot glasses again. Namjoon swings his head in Jungkook's direction, but Jungkook has his eyes closed, head bobbing as he tries to keep up. 

His cheeks are so fucking adorable this way. Yoongi wants to reach out and squeeze them. He squeezes his glass tighter instead.

“How nice,” Yoongi says again. He knows what Namjoon is doing. Fucking waxing poetic about what a cool older brother he is. Well, Jungkook’s got an older brother. One that Yoongi actually likes. And Namjoon doesn’t look at Yoongi like an older brother would.

It’s more like a competitor would.

“I hate school,” Jungkook yawns, stirring the straw in his drink. “I can get drunk today but I gotta study tomorrow.”

“School’s important,” Namjoon says, finger lazily wagging before his face. “I didn’t get where I was without school.”

Yoongi scoffs, leaning against an exposed pipe. “Fuck school. Do what you want. What you want may not need a degree.”

Jungkook oggles over him, mouth parted in awe like Yoongi’s spoken every wish he’s ever had. Yoongi truly relishes the disapproving furrow of Namjoon’s eyebrows.

“To each their own,” is all Namjoon says.

“No,” Yoongi starts, filling their glasses this time. “Jungkook’s fucking brilliant. A golden boy. He could do whatever he wants however he wants.”

Jungkook inhales deep and chokes on his straw. Yoongi tips another shot glass in Namjoon’s favor before taking it back. 

“Should you, slow down?” Namjoon suggests.

An assumably sleeping Hope opens bleary eyes. “Don’t worry about him, he’s got about 10 more shots and 5 beers left.”

“That’s my man!” Jin cheers, just as energetic as an hour ago, and fills another shot. Yoongi brushes off his shoulders with a cocky tilt of his head. This time, he raises the glass in the air.

“To the birthday boy, who can finally stop sneaking through my checkout line,” Yoongi cheers. Jungkook’s cheeks redden, tongue dipping into his cheek. Yoongi wants to poke at where it sticks out, maybe pinch the skin.

Those who can still manage clink glasses and toast to the rosy-cheeked birthday boy. Namjoon looks between the two, a little confused. Good. Let Namjoon wonder what he’s talking about. Feel left out.

“So,” Yoongi starts, feeling bolstered by his one-over. “When am I coming to your studio?”

Namjoon blinks then shakes his head. After the rounds of drinks, it’s more like his whole upper body just sways. “Are you inviting yourself over?”

“Do you need something better than your shit beats?” Yoongi’s taken aback by his own brazen behavior. God bless soju.

Namjoon purses his lips as he tips the bottle over his glass again. “Alright, let’s see what you can do.”

“What I can do?” Yoongi sets his shot down only to stab his chopsticks into the fire pit. “Let me tell you, they call me,” he lifts up the beef tongue from the grill, “the tongue master.”

Jungkook’s drink spills from his nose, but Jin just breaks into a barking laugh. He slaps Yoongi on the shoulder so hard he almost misses his mouth.

Jimin has missed his mouth, jaw broken as Taehyung rocks with laughter.

“Okay then,” Jin slaps his knees and stands. “This dick-size competition has gone too far. Let’s get out of here.”

Namjoon does, in fact, pay for everything, a sense of guilt and pride mingling in with the amount of alcohol in Yoongi’s stomach. As they stand outside, everyone bids their goodbyes.

Yoongi realizes he can’t ride with Jungkook this time. He wants to ride home. He wants to feel Jungkook’s stomach tighten and his shoulders twist as he guides the bike down the roads.

Jungkook jumps suddenly. Yoongi startles, too. When Jungkook glances down, Yoongi follows.

Oh, he’s holding Jungkook’s shirt. Like a fucking shoujo manga.

Jungkook fidgets, but Yoongi doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to. 

“Did you stall out?”Jimin asks, chin over Yoongi’s shoulder. The weight of Jimin’s chin has him swaying a bit. Okay, maybe he’s a bit drunk.

He needs to watch himself.

Yoongi tries to think of a reason he grabbed Jungkook. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“You.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen and his lips part before he realizes the voice is Taehyung, chin tucked over Jungkook’s shoulder just like Jimin. Jungkook’s doing his best to elbow Taehyung while he looks anywhere but at Yoongi, but the boy refuses to release his waist. Yoongi’s also looking away, trying not to notice how snug Jungkook looks in Taehyung’s arms. He was that snug on the way here.

“I kind of just want everyone to hang out at our place…” Jungkook grumbles when Taehyung nuzzles into his cheek. “I just want my favorite people around…” Jungkook’s eyes flicker to Yoongi before over his shoulder at Jimin. “...and stuff.”

“Still on about a boring birthday, huh?” Jimin pouts. “Jungkookie always gets set in his ways. He’s very particular about how he handles things.”

Jimin squeezes Yoongi’s waist. For such a small man, he has an iron grip like Taehyung. He cranes his neck to send a knowing nod of the head at Jungkook.

“Jungkookie likes to do things his own way.”

Oh.

Jimin’s telling him not to make a move. He’s telling him Jungkook wants to do this. At his own excruciatingly slow pace.

Jimin gives a loud, strangled cough and shoves Yoongi forward. Taehyung does the same. Jungkook’s tattered converse knock into Yoongi’s matching pair. Yoongi squirms, but Jimin just giggles. 

Both boys stare at their feet as their friends giggle behind their backs, literally. Yoongi feels like he’s on the playground in grade school.

Jungkook looks like he feels like he might implode.

With their friends shoving them closer, Yoongi patiently waiting before him, Jungkook doesn’t make a move. He hangs his head, shaggy hair hiding most of his face.

Yoongi’s going to fucking do this. He’s going to fucking push this kid until he finally goes through with it. He needs to say something, but the alcohol slows his brain. Anything, to give a hint again.

“Hey kid, help me lift your fancy new bike into Jin’s truck,” Namjoon interjects, shoving Taehyung out of the way and wrapping around Jungkook’s shoulders. He drags Jungkook back from Yoongi, eyes locked on Yoongi the whole time. “We’ll pick everything up tomorrow when we’re sober. It’ll be easy. Since I’m staying with you. At your house.”

Yoongi stays there, Jimin still latched onto him. Namjoon’s head swings heavy between Jungkook and Yoongi.

“See you around,” Namjoon says with an air of finality. He lugs Jungkook off toward the parking lot, hand around his waist.

* * *

“Who the hell is he?” Yoongi pouts, sitting in Jin’s living room the next morning. Yoongi’s mouth is dry from the weed, making it hard to frown. His bottom lip keeps getting stuck to his teeth.

Namjoon had left early to go back to recording, making sure to mention he had only made the time just to visit Jungkook. Yoongi took his chance to come over and confide in Jin. He didn’t mean for it to happen, but he found himself drawn to Jin when he wants to complain. Jin isn’t as loud as Hope or chaotic as Jimin and Taehyung. He has a settling presence about him.

“No, his single is called ‘Who the Hell Am I’,” Jin corrects, chuckling at his joke. He tweaks the end of his guitar still in his pajama pants.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Yoongi gripes, nestling farther into the love seat. He wishes the drugs would make the couch suck him down. He could escape to a world of cushions and naps and the faint smell of Jungkook. He remembers how soft Jungkook’s back felt, broad but still comforting. He wants to sink into that.

“Yeah, I do,” Jin says with a sigh. “Also, it is getting weirder and weirder that you are confiding in me, Jungkook’s older brother, about your feelings for him.”

Yoongi scowls. “First of all, you started this friendship. Second of all, this is about Namjoon.”

“Of course it is.”

“It definitely is. What does Jungkook-” Jin cocks an eyebrow, so Yoongi redirects, “-who does Namjoon think he is saying school matters or Jungkook’s grown or maybe we could collab.”

“I mean honestly you made that situation so much worse,” Jin shrugs, putting down his guitar and picking up the joint. “I gave you his contact as an olive branch and you went HAM on him.”

“The guy asked for it! Fucking tossing his weight around. All over Jungkook.”

“Look,” Jin says, passing Yoongi the joint. “Jungkook loves Namjoon. But not like that. He thinks Namjoon invented sliced bread.”

“I don’t see how that is supposed to help,” Yoongi huffs out. Yoongi didn’t invent sliced bread. Yoongi rarely even eats bread.

Jin sighs, then his head pops up. “Can we go back to where you didn’t deny you have a crush on my brother? My brother, who definitely has a fat ass crush on you?”

Yoongi wishes the couch would swallow him whole. “I’m under the impression Hope told everyone seconds after I admitted it.”

“You know this would all be solved if you just told him you liked him,” Jin offers.

“I was going to do it yesterday but Jimin… well, doesn’t Jungkook want to be the one to tell me?” Yoongi twiddles his fingers in his lap. The way his thumbs come so close yet pass over each other reminds him of the game they are playing with each other. He rubs his palms against his thighs instead.

“My brother may be hot shit but he’s never going to confess first. He’s a ball of nerves,” Jin laments with a strum of the guitar.

“But…” Yoongi doesn’t even want to admit it to himself, “I don’t want to do it. I kind of want him to do it now.”

“Again, I know I just started this, but I don’t want to talk about it.” Jin holds up the guitar like a shield against Yoongi’s blushing cheeks.

Yoongi kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “At least Namjoon invited me to his studio.”

“You invited yourself,” Jin scoffs.

“And he accepted, so that’s an invite.”

“All I’m saying is,” Jin starts, voice high with mockery, “If you want something, do something about it before someone else does.”

Yoongi blanches. “You just said Jungkook doesn’t like him. And you just said you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I just really want to get all this pining shit over with,” Jin sings with another strum of his guitar.

Both boys stop talking at the click of the front door. The sound of Jungkook’s shoes kicking onto the floor greets them before Jungkook stumbles in. His enters the room in a dazed state of mind. Yoongi wants to scold Namjoon for making him get up so early on his birthday weekend.

“Hey, baby brother,” Jin sings to the tune of his guitar. Jungkook grunts. “Don’t you think Yoongi looks hot today?”

Yoongi can’t believe his ears. Jungkook halts, eyeing Yoongi. He fumbles with the keys.

“Yes,” he whispers, then trots down the hall, shutting the door.

Jin and Yoongi stare after him.

“Please, put him out of his misery,” Jin begs. “I love him, but he’s a fucking idiot.”

“I wonder where he gets it from,” Yoongi muses allowed.

“Hi, tell Hope to come next time, bye.”

Yoongi mouths off at Jin, then settles into his high. Somehow, despite the aggravation of yesterday evening, he succumbs to the weed. Their furniture is so comfortable. Just like the two brothers. Yoongi finds himself wanting to be here more and more. Their presence is energetic yet calming. The home is sparsely decorated yet cozy. And this couch, it smells like Jungkook. Yoongi can imagine the press of the cushions on his face is Jungkook’s back on the motorcycle again. Swaying side to side, his arm on his, squeezing tight, shaking hard…

Shaking really hard.

When he peaks an eye open, grumbling as he stretches, he’s no longer alone.

“Good morning sunshine,” Hope sings, patting Yoongi’s leg. “It’s birthday party round two.”

Yoongi rubs his tired eyes, smacking dry lips. “What?”

“Video game party!” Taehyung sings, swinging his body over the couch and collapsing next to Yoongi. The whole couch sinks to the side and Yoongi braces on the armrest. At some point, Yoongi knocked out. Everyone had arrived.

“Where’s the actual birthday boy?”

“Probably jerking it to pictures of you sleeping on the couch,” Taehyung shrugs. He cringes when Jimin smacks the back of his skull.

But Yoongi can’t retort. Instead, he just shuffles his legs, hoping the grogginess and vivid memory of Jungkook calling his name won’t have him horny the rest of the evening.

He liked it much better when none of their friends knew about… whatever this is.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Jungkook grumbles, bringing Hope’s bong in the house.

Jin gives a heavy sigh as he sinks into the same chair from earlier. Yoongi knows he’s pursing his lips and gazing at him, but he ignores it. Hope bounces away from Yoongi to sit at Jin’s feet, the two busying themselves with the bong. Jungkook plugs in his music, playing the beat low from the TV speakers.

They don’t make it to video games. With the pass of the bong, the small chatter, and the shout outs for song requests, they end up just chilling. 

The calm atmosphere leaves Yoongi unsure if he’s entered an alternate reality after his nap. One where he stayed on this couch and the world shifted around him. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind staying on this couch. Especially when Jungkook sits in front of it, his shoulder lightly pressed against his legs.

Fuck it, he’ll stay on this couch for the next month if Jungkook wants to sit there.

Everyone’s reached a comfortable level of stoned. The air is smokey, the taste on their tongues matching the air they inhale. Taehyung and Jimin sit on each other, absently stroking and marveling at their own skin. Hope is sprawled on the floor across from Jungkook, and Jin’s decided to stretch out on the floor with his guitar sitting idle on his stomach.

It felt weird sitting around listening to the music. It didn’t match their usual shouting and cheering in a local bar. But something about this is nice. Yoongi feels nice.

Their bodies sprawled around the carpeted living room would make more sense if they had cards in front of them. Maybe they should play a card game. Yoongi can’t remember the last time he had something else in his  hand  besides a beer or a blunt.

He bets Jungkook likes card games. He almost wants to nudge him, but he’s scared he’ll move if he does. Like a small creature in a forest, Jungkook seems jumpy even in his own home. Yoongi knows he’s to blame for the poor boy’s nerves. He really, really wants those nerves to burst. For Jungkook to have enough, to lurch over the edge of the couch and press Yoongi into the sofa, to sink with him into the cushions where they can hide their together.

Yoongi distracts himself from his fantasies by focusing on a harmony he’d never noticed in the current song. Jin had some awesome speakers. The melody floats in front of the speakers and mingles with the smoke in the air.

He looks around to check how everyone else feels. If they are considering the same thoughts as him. Everyone looks content. 

Jungkook is singing. The mysterious harmony floating along with the music belonged to Jungkook. 

It’s different than the comedic belting in the karaoke bar. His features are etched with concentration, completely overtaken by the song. Yoongi can see it in the reflection of the TV in front of them like an old black and white film. Jungkook’s eyes are closed, the sound so soft, it feels like something Yoongi is invading by watching.

But he can’t stop watching. Gears turn in Yoongi’s mind, building his own composition around the unusually high, breathy words Jungkook sings.

He sounds so confident with his own voice. Yoongi’s never seen him like this. His mere presence void of any nerves. Jungkook’s brows draw in on the higher parts, head leaning back as he extends notes, shoulders rolling side to side every now and then like the reality of leaning against the chair breaks his concentration.

The song fades to an end, much too soon. Yoongi wants to play it again. To watch again.

Hope’s belting laugh breaks the vibe in the room. He starts prattling on about a memory he and Jimin shared with the next song.

Yoongi could care less. He’s striving to hold onto the Jungkook in the song. He wonders if he can embed the memory in his mind like it was actually playing on the TV rather than merely reflecting. Jungkook slowly opens his eyes. 

Yoongi can’t look away in time. Jungkook’s gaze finds Yoongi’s through the screen before them. 

The eyes are different. Hazy with relaxation from the song, content. They’re black in the shadows, cut in half from the way he looks up at Yoongi. His head tilts to the side, the smallest tug of a smile on his lips. 

Damn.

Yoongi’s jaw snaps closed. He licks his lips nervously, readjusting the bottle in his lap but not taking his eyes off Jungkook. Jungkook stares back, unwavering. Yoongi’s cheeks warm. This isn’t the same boy who stares like a deer in the headlights.

Jungkook’s lips start to move, but no sound comes out. 

Please like me.

Yoongi’s heart drops out of his chest then bounces back up, threatening to crack his ribs.

“What?” Yoongi squeaks. His heart is jammed in his throat.

Jungkook’s alluring gaze vanishes. The strong set of his jaw drops. He blinks away the determination only to replace it with shock. He slaps a hand over his mouth, turning to look back at Yoongi in horror.

He didn’t know Yoongi could see him.

“Okay, okay, enough of this, let’s do something,” Jin whines from the floor. Jungkook and Yoongi both jump. Taehyung’s head shoots up with a yelp as the two boys jostle his dozing frame.

“Cake,” Jungkook barely breathes. He shoves off the floor, starting for the door.

“We have no cake. And none of us can drive,” Hope reminds him, shaking his half-empty bottle. Jungkook grabs onto the door frame, knuckles white.

“Let’s just play some games,” Jin suggests, crawling over to the TV. “It’s your birthday, you can just cream us all in Mario Kart.”

Jungkook turns, shoulders stiff. He marches over to Taehyung on the couch. He tells the boy to scoot over, one body in between him and Yoongi.

That kicks Yoongi’s mind back into gear.

Not this time. He’s not getting out of it this time.

Yoongi stands and swishes the warm contents of his beer. “Anyone want another?”

When no one moves, Yoongi tries his best to nonchalantly offer, “Jungkook, you need another.”

Jungkook rockets off the couch, a mess of nervous energy as he presses his lips into a line. He follows Yoongi into the kitchen. Taehyung and Jimin behind him are smacking at each other, barely containing their squeals.

The kitchen is free from the smoky fog in the living room. No matter, because it’s thick with something else. Something much, much more palpable.

He’s got Jungkook in the kitchen. They’re alone. Jungkook knows Yoongi caught him. There is no better chance for this fucking kid to confess.

“How’s it going,” Yoongi states, handing Jungkook a beer from the fridge. 

“Um, good...” Jungkook spins the beer in his hands. He leans back into the counter, spreading his legs out. He pops the cap off on the edge of the counter. Yoongi hands him his beer to do the same if only to watch Jungkook do it again.

Jungkook says nothing, just sips his beer. Yoongi busies himself with how straight his beanie is on his head. He’s naturally an impatient person. It’s only been 24 hours and he’s dying. He needs Jungkook to do this.

“You watched me sing.”

It was a statement. Yoongi’s not sure if he’s supposed to respond. Jungkook continues to look at him expectantly. His smile is small, making the rest of him look small in his large shirt. Yoongi won’t let him change the subject.

He’ll put on the pressure of silence.

As the seconds pass, Jungkook deflates. He inhales slowly. Yoongi prepares himself as well.

“Do you like me?”

Oh shit. Yoongi jolts, body torn between jumping the kid and handling this like the civilized adult he is. That was way more direct than he was expecting. 

“It! I meant it. The song. Do you like the song?” Jungkook follows with a terribly fake laugh. He takes about half of his beer in one go.

Yoongi cannot fathom the circumstances. Jungkook just ruined his own opportunity for Yoongi to confess. Jungkook, perfect at anything he’s ever even thought of trying. Hot, sexy, sweet, and…

Yoongi should have fucking jumped him.

Jin has the game system set up. Yoongi can hear the intro music and the dillydallying tune of the loading screen. It’s an ironic backset to his own predicament.

Shit. He’s just been staring at Jungkook who decided to finish his entire beer in one go.

Yoongi takes a good look at Jungkook. Standing there, black shirt, veins of his arms shifting as he spins the empty bottle back and forth. The way his legs shape any pair of jeans he wears, the rips showing honey skin. The soft smile he only seems to see around himself these days.

Jungkook sets his empty beer bottle down but doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to leave the kitchen.

Yoongi doesn’t want to leave the kitchen.

He curses at the ceiling and gives a deep, frustrated sigh. After grabbing another beer

from the fridge, he takes one step in between Jungkook’s outstretched legs. Jungkook concentrates on the fresh beer in Yoongi’s hands, refusing to look up. His nerves are overtaking him. Goddammit, Yoongi is not built for this kind of shit.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi shakes his head in defeat, cracking open the beer, “did you seriously want to just ask me about the song?”

Jungkook lets out a strangled sound similar to a squeak. Yoongi takes a sip of the beer and waits.

Like a thermometer, the red rises from Jungkook’s collar up to his cheeks to his ears, and he rolls both his lips into his mouth to keep from making any expression. He looks like a little boy, despite looking down at Yoongi.

Yoongi holds Jungkook’s gaze for a moment longer. He pushes all his implications, all his desire into his gaze. But Jungkook’s mouth just hangs ajar, frozen in time. A hundred emotions flash through the eyes that can’t tear away from Yoongi. Yoongi wonders if Jungkook can read his eyes the same way.

He doubts it.

When Jungkook stands there, slack-jawed, for over a minute, Yoongi steps back out of his space. He heaves a sigh, running his hand through his hair.

“Okay then,” Yoongi sighs. He turns to walk back out of the kitchen.

He thinks he dreams it. Soft skin brushing over his forearm before it snags his shirt. But the pull on his sleeve is real. Yoongi looks over his shoulder, worried if he moves too much, it’ll scare him off.

“Hyung,” Jungkook squeaks. All of Jungkook’s body is flushed a cherry red. He ducks his head so his messy hair shrouds his face. Yoongi feels like he’s looking in a mirror. He’d done the same to Jungkook last night. Maybe that was it. Maybe Jungkook would only step out as far as Yoongi pushed the boundaries. Maybe he couldn’t take his own step--

“I like you.” 

It’s soft as a whisper, barely audible in the empty kitchen. The blood rushes so loud in Yoongi’s ears he’s not sure if he heard him correctly. He’s not sure if his heart is beating so fast he can’t feel it or if it stopped beating completely.

“You what?” Yoongi whispers, the breath knocked out of his chest by his possibly-dead heart.

Jungkook glances up through his messy locks, that same determination in his gaze. But there’s a glint of annoyance as he tongues at his cheek. Maybe at Yoongi, maybe at himself.

“I said I like you,” Jungkook mumbles a bit louder, refusing to look away this time. With his iron grip on Yoongi’s shirt, it almost sounds like a threat.

Yoongi has no idea what to do. He wanted this, but he doesn’t know what to do with it. His mind seems to have died with his heart. But that tongue darting out to wet Jungkook’s lips spurs something in him. Impatience, excitement, and coyness.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi drawls. A smug smile paints his blushing cheeks. He turns to face Jungkook head-on, stepping back into his space. The boy’s body goes rigid, unsure of what Yoongi may do. Yoongi peers up past the curtain of hair and into Jungkook’s face. “Could you say that again?”

“I LIKE YOU!” Jungkook shouts in frustration. Surprised at his announcement, he chomps down on his bottom lip as if to close down the floodgates. Blood immediately dots his finger as he checks the wound. He whines, hiding his face. With a chuckle, Yoongi pulls Jungkook’s hand away.

Woah.

Jungkook’s hand is in Yoongi’s hand. Jungkook’s face, though bleeding, is inches from his face. Soft skin matched by the soft puff of Jungkook’s racing breath. Wide eyes locked on their grip. Yoongi should let go. If Jungkook doesn’t implode, he will. But Jungkook doesn’t let go.

“Go on a date with me, Hyung,” Jungkook whispers, but the words reverberate loud and clear in Yoongi’s ears.

A shudder creeps through Yoongi’s body. A date. He likes him. And a date.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes in. “Um, o—”

“LIKE, WHO LIKES?” Jimin screeches from just outside the kitchen door. 

“DID IT HAPPEN?” Hope somehow screeches even louder. The two boys plus Taehyung tumble into the kitchen in a ball of giggles and squeals.

Jungkook wrenches his hand from Yoongi’s, embarrassment coloring his features. Taehyung and Jimin make kissy faces at Jungkook’s cheeks while Hope cheers and woots. Jungkook smiles at the floor, trying to shove the two boys off.

Yoongi drops his head. His friends are fucking exhausting.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Jin shouts from the living room. “Stop playing with each other and play the game!”

Taehyung cannot be deterred. He relents from Jungkook only to grab Yoongi around the waist and twirl him around. Hope shakes Jungkook’s hand like a proud father.

“Please go away,” Yoongi groans.

The three stooges vacate the kitchen, shouting and cheering while Jin begs them not to congratulate his brother’s love life in front of him. Yoongi sends Jungkook a shy smile as he heads back out.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says. His voice sounds more natural, not like fear squeezed the air from his windpipe. “You didn’t finish answering.”

Yoongi blushes furiously. “I did.”

“Fuck is not an answer,” Jungkook pouts. God, that pout.

“I think it could be,” Yoongi teases just to watch Jungkook freeze up. Which he does. Mouth bobs like a fish out of water. He tries to calm the thoughts shifting over his face, failing miserably.

Oh boy, is Yoongi in for it.

“Yes, Jungkook, let’s go on a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've left the world of pining and entered the world of chaotic romantic.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi and Jungkook finally, actually, go on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Here's to living vicariously through fictional characters instead of finding real love.  
> So, just as a forewarning, this chapter is just the date. There's not much side-character action!

_ Jungkook _

_ Saturday? _

_ Yoongi _

_ Yeah _

_ Jungkook _

_ 2pm? _

_ Yoongi _

_ Okay _

Yoongi squints at his phone screen. He’s tucked under his sheets, so the light from the phone feels blinding. But he can’t stop re-reading the messages. Today is Saturday. It’s 9 am. 5 hours until he sees Jungkook.

5 hours until he goes on a date with Jungkook. Dates change things. It may be change Yoongi wants, but it means once he goes to this date, things won't be the same in their friend group anymore. That kind of excites him, and it kind of really freaks him out.

Yoongi mutes the screen, smacking the device against his head. This is happening. This is really fucking happening.

Why on earth is it happening?

In the last week, Yoongi’s emotions have bounced from what extreme to the next. It’s a shit rollercoaster he didn’t wanna board and can’t get off. He’s fuckin ecstatic. Jungkook, the hottest person he’s ever met, wants to date him. Then, the coaster drops over a hill. Why the fuck would Jungkook like him? And liked him for a while?

He taps the phone with his nose, and the short conversation comes up again. They barely said anything, but it’s so daunting. Just these short words are all they’ve shared in the last few days. Yoongi’s scared to say more. It’ll waste the few conversation topics he has in mind.

“Yoongi,” a muffled voice breaks Yoongi’s train of thought. He stiffens, tightening the covers around himself.

His bed dips on either side, turning his cozy cocoon into a vice-like trap.

“A deal’s a deal,” Hope sings close to his ear. He wrestles for the edge of the blanket, but Yoongi tightens his grip.

“I have enough stress today,” Yoongi grumbles.

Hope just laughs. He jostles Yoongi’s curled-up frame. “Should have thought of that when you made the bet.”

“That makes no sense,” Yoongi retorts.

“Why so blue?” Hope giggles. “When you could be green?”

The covers rip back. Hope quickly tucks them under his thighs. Yoongi’s exposed, trapped under his body. Oh god, Hope already has the black gloves on.

He pauses, surprised. Then, a smug smile creeps over his cheeks. “Nervous about today’s date?”

Yoongi’s phone rests face up in his hand still. Shit. Shit, shit shit. He’s being such a baby about this.

“Kinda,” he admits regardless.

Hope delays his attack, hands drumming on his hips. “Whatcha doing? Whatcha gonna wear?”

Yoongi throws an arm over his face. “That’s literally what I’m--”

Wait.

He sits up, and Hope spasms when he almost falls backward. “I’ll let you dress me if you don’t dye my hair today.”

Hope rolls off Yoongi to the floor in a fit of giggles. “Oh man, great minds think alike.”

Yoongi doesn’t waver. He knows the nerves are showing in his eyes, wide and desperate. He doesn’t want the added stress of dying his hair and he definitely doesn’t want to look like shit. Jungkook’s going to look so fucking hot.

“What?” Yoongi demands.

“Nothing,” Hope waves him off. He snaps off the gloves and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief. “Deal. Follow me.”

Yoongi pads down the hall after Hope. In his bedroom, Hope starts digging through piles and drawers of various colors and garments. They had vastly different opinions on the value of appearance.

Yoongi tugs absently at the edge of his shirt. “Can’t I wear my own clothes?”

“We want a wow factor, Yoongs,” Hope tosses something with sequins over his shoulder. “Something to really say, jump my bones.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything. That is kind of what he wants.

Hope emerges from his pile of eccentricity with a shirt and some pants. 

“Strip.” The command makes Yoongi blush, but he starts disassembling to reassemble. Hope crosses his legs on the bed. “So what are you gonna do today?”

Yoongi tries to squeeze his shins through the patched skinny jeans. Christ, he’s already got thin legs, so how does Hope fit these things  _ and _ dance? “We’re going to a coffee shop.”

“Oh, I already know that,” Hope sighs. “I mean, what are you gonna do?”

Yoongi stops, needing a breather from the pant-pulling. “You already know?”

“What I’m talking about is the romantic stuff,” Hope continues as though Yoongi hadn’t asked how Hope knows today’s itinerary. “For example…”

Hope snags Yoongi’s hand just as he’s going to button the pants. “Are you going to hold his hand?”

Before Yoongi can respond, Hope yanks him in to wrap his arms around his waist. Yoongi yelps, face burning as Hope’s cheek rubs against his bare chest. “Are you going to hug him?”

Yoongi tries to squirm free. Hope stands, cups Yoongi’s cheek, and starts to lean in with puckered lips. “Are you going to-”

Yoongi finally shoves him off and grabs the sequined shirt. He can’t even think of an insult because yeah, all that sounds great. 

Hope can’t contain his hysterics as he wheezes out, “Oh, Yoongoboongo, you are too adorable.”

Yoongi wishes the shirt could sit around his head and hide his face from Hope. He has to remind himself that this is a trade-off for having his hair dyed. 

He regrets the trade when assesses himself in the mirror. “I look like a fashionable clown.”

The faded rainbow bomber jacket isn’t half bad. But the sequin top beneath is blindingly tacky. Not to mention the way it clashes with the purposefully destroyed jeans Hope put him in.

“Fashionable indeed,” Hope teases. “If you want to be a clown, I’ve got some boots that match.”

“No,” Yoongi says quickly. One thing he knows for certain is the shoes. “I’m wearing my converse.”

“You hate your Converse,” Hope says with a cock of his head.

Yoongi nibbles at his bottom lip. Jungkook likes Converse. Jungkook said he liked Yoongi’s Converse. So he might as well wear something he knows Jungkook likes.

Yoongi doesn’t tell Hope, just smiles at his socked feet like an idiot. Hope lets out a big sigh. “Alright, fine. Then we have to change the top.”

Yoongi’s a little concerned with what Hope might whip out next. He’s relieved when it’s a tattered thrifted shirt. Yoongi snatches it up.

“This feels more like me,” Yoongi says when he looks in the mirror again.

“Yes, it does,” Hope says as he drops his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders. “Hopefully Jungkook gets the message.”

Yoongi curls his lip in confusion. Hope points a finger to the words  _ bite me _ in big block letters above the faded band photo adorning the shirt.

He wants to comment, but Hope’s already gone, snapping down the hall. “Now, let’s do something with your face.”

Kill him now.

Actually, kill him  _ now _ Yoongi corrects when he walks closer to the address Jungkook sent him.

Yoongi’s not built for this. The anticipation. The nerves. The awkwardness. The entire  _ date _ thing. He avoids every one of those things on a regular basis. And now he’s doing all of them, for someone who makes all those things worse.

Each step closer to the coffee shop adds weight to Yoongi’s feet. He wonders if time actually slows just to draw out the agony of willingly agreeing to do something so fucking stressful with someone so fucking gorgeous.

So gorgeous. Dangerously, painfully gorgeous. That’s exactly how Jungkook looks standing outside the coffee shop. Why couldn’t he wait inside? Why couldn’t Yoongi have just a few minutes to try and strap his heart back into his chest?

Jungkook doesn’t look how he usually looks. He resonates sexified biker gang member energy sent from Gucci to destroy him. His typically baggy clothes have been replaced with slacks that fit his waist. He’s in a loose-fitting top button-up, one that’s somehow oddly familiar. With his hands in his pockets, Yoongi might cry at how they shape his ass in a perfect side profile.

Oh god, when he turns towards Yoongi in those ray ban sunglasses, square and defined just like Jungkook’s jawline, his organs shut down. Literally. Yoongi’s fairly certain he needs life support.

Yoongi stops next to Jungkook. Jungkook stares, and when Yoongi moves, Jungkook takes a step back. Like he’s on the defensive or something. Yoongi takes a step forward. Jungkook rips the sunglasses off his face. His bewildered expression takes Yoongi off guard.

“You… You…” Jungkook’s eyes dart from every point of reference in the setting before him. Self-consciousness overtakes him with every passing second.

“Actually, my name is Yoongi,” he sasses. Natural defense. Maybe not the best response.

Jungkook blinks. He blinks again. He eyes Yoongi from head to toe. God, hopefully, he doesn’t think he looks like shit. Hope wouldn’t let him look like shit though. Maybe this isn’t Jungkook’s type? If Jungkook likes him, he’s clearly not into good looking guys. Shit, why is he downing himself so much? Oh fuck, Jungkook said something.

“Huh?” Yoongi asks.

“You’re wearing converse,” Jungkook says again.

Yoongi twists his feet a bit. Jungkook’s in… flipflops? “You said you like them, so…”

“Taehyung wouldn’t let me wear mine.”

“What?” They both had the same idea. Hope’s earlier comment on the floor makes more sense.

“He almost wouldn’t let me wear anything,” Jungkook grumbles.

“ _ What _ ?”

“Well he knows what you like so I asked him to dress me and he said I should wear nothing.”

Yoongi’s jaw drops. What a fucking brat. Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink. “Should I have worn nothing?”

“That’s against the law,” Yoongi breathes out. Jungkook laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands tighten around the strap on his shoulder. Now that he’s facing JUngkook and actually man enough to take in the whole display, he sees the boy’s trusty Canon. “You brought your camera?”

“Ah,” Jungkook smiles fondly at the camera. Yoongi wants that smile for himself. Hot damn, is he jealous of a camera? “I wanted to document the day.”

Yoongi’s ears are aflame. He’s so fucking adorable. It almost comes out then and there.  _ Why do you even like me? _ But he can’t say it. Not before the date’s even started.

So he settles for, “Let’s go in.”

Maybe it’s because Yoongi’s not in his normal clothes, or because he’s with Jungkook, but he’s keenly aware of how many people stare at them when they walk in. They don’t stand out in this shop. In fact, Yoongi quite likes it. The place has a lot of art, not too packed, cool colors yet somehow cozy. Even the bar has a unique pastry container and a large slat of rough stone for the counter.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks, taking out his wallet.

“Oh, I can pay,” Yoongi reaches for his own. He has no idea how it fits in the tight pockets.

“It’s my date,” Jungkook says. It’s very decisive. Unusually cocky for him.

“Am I yours, too?” Yoongi snarks.

The waitress behind the counter barely contains a squeal. Yoongi clamps his mouth shut. Defensive sassiness is dangerous territory for flirting.

Jungkook’s quiet for a moment. “Sure.”

Yoongi can’t even speak. He can’t believe that the Jungkook he knows just said something so bold.

“Black coffee,” Jungkook tells the waitress before he rushes off towards a table without giving Yoongi a second glance. That’s more like the Jungkook he knows.

Yoongi plops into the seat across from Jungkook. Jungkook already has his camera resting on the table, nervously running his thumbs along the edges.

This is the part Yoongi hadn’t thought too far on. The chit chat. He and Jungkook hadn’t done much of it. Just… a bunch of oblivious pining. They hadn’t spent much time alone either. He had a mental list, but none of the topics come to mind. Each time he goes to speak, Jungkook straightens up, then Yoongi loses his train of thought. Is Jungkook wearing eyeliner? Oh god, Taehyung, you godsend.

Yoongi can’t believe they really sit there trading awkward glances until his coffee arrives. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe they’ll sit here in silence for a whole hour… or more… oh shit.

Yoongi shakes out his bangs and wraps his nervous fingers around the cup, lifting it to his nose to sniff. The familiar, roasted scent calms him a bit.

“Can I take a photo?” Jungkook all but whispers.Yoongi peers at him over the cup. He grips the camera now, finger already hesitating over the shutter.

“What?” Yoongi asks. He’s a bit nervous about being photographed in this outfit.

“You’re always happy when Hope brings you coffee,” Jungkook murmurs at the lens moreso than Yoongi.

“Are you stalking me?”

“What?” Jungkook’s head snaps up from behind the lens. Only his round, anxious eyes are visible. “I don’t think so.”

“You don't think?” Yoongi questions. Actually, that might make sense. Only some deranged obsessiveness bordering on a disorder would cause someone like Jungkook to like someone like him. When Jungkook keeps getting paler, Yoongi adds, “I'm honored either way.”

Jungkook fiddles with his camera. “Really?”

“Are you excited that I want you to stalk me?”

Jungkook’s mouth snaps shut. His shoulders come up to his ears and he brings the camera close. “No, I…” he clears his throat, “You’re teasing me.”

“I am.”

“I like it.”

Yoongi almost chokes on the coffee. Both boys avoid eye contact for a bit, like fucking teenagers. Jungkook likes it? Yoongi remembers how he wanted to tease and be teased by Jungkook. Watching Jimin and Taehyung pick on him. Now he can.

Eventually, Jungkook raises the camera to cover his face. Yoongi focuses on a print hanging behind Jungkook, shy of the lens but also worried he’ll pop a boner looking at Jungkook’s hands again. He can’t hide the smile on his face though.

After Jungkook snaps a photo, something dawns on Yoongi. “Where's your drink?”

“I didn't get one,” Jungkook states matter of factly, busy staring at his new photo.

“What? why?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Jungkook states just as matter of factly.

“Then…” Yoongi finds the menu above the counter again. There is nothing but coffee. “Why are we here?”

“I asked Hope what you liked to do.”

“You could have asked me.”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Goddammit, that’s cute. Yoongi shakes his head. That’s not the issue, dumbass. “So we came to get coffee, but you don’t drink coffee.”

Jungkook nods.

“Hope dressed me, and Taehyung dressed you.”

Jungkook nods again.

Yoongi sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “Jungkook, this is not how dates work.”

Jungkook shrinks in on himself, chin tucking to his chest. “Did I do it wrong?”

“You can’t do a date wrong.”

“But it’s not right.”

“That’s just rephrasing-” Yoongi huffs out a breath. Jungkook cowers at his frustration. Yoongi tries to stop from huffing out yet another fucking breath. This is the issue. He’s trying to be what Jungkook wants and Jungkook, for some reason, wants to do the same for him. They aren’t themselves. And being themselves is how they got to this point, right? “We need to be ourselves.”

Jungkook sags, his body dipping lower in his seat like a deflating balloon. His dejection is the most relaxed Yoongi’s ever seen him. Jungkook mumbles, “Honestly, asking Taehyung for help is being myself.”

“But if we want this to work, we got to be us,” Yoongi clarifies. Jungkook makes a strangled sound. Oh fuck, what did he do, Jungkook’s eyes are glistening.

“You want us to work?” Jungkook whimpers.

“Um, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“It’s not a pity date?” Jungkook whispers.

“The fuck?” Yoongi’s mind is blown. Did he seriously ask that? “Jungkook, who the fuck would pity date you?”

“I… yeah, Jin said that but…” Jungkook shakes his hair into his face like the curtain will actually hide his welling eyes. Yoongi reaches forward, not sure what to do. Actually, he should take his own goddamn medicine. He should do exactly what he’s wanted to do for months.

He places his hand over Jungkook’s on the table. The shock of the action ripples through both the boys. Yoongi clenches his jaw to avoid shivering at the sheer relief of finally, fucking finally touching Jungkook’s hands. 

Tentatively, Jungkook rolls his palm over. Yoongi holds his hand in place, the want from every time he’s walked next to Jungkook, every time he’s seen his hand hold a beer bottle or twist over a lense reverberating through his very being. It’s amazing. So soft, a little clammy.

Jungkook’s fingers curl gently under Yoongi’s palm and he fucking shivers. He curls his fingers up so the pads of their fingers touch. And this may be the weirdest fucking way to hold hands but man is it fucking amazing, everything he’s ever wanted. Yoongi really hopes all the sweat isn’t just his. He’s also really concerned that he might cream his pants right now.

Jungkook sighs. Yoongi hadn’t noticed he’d also been holding his breath through the whole process. His chest rises and falls.

Yoongi somehow forgot. Jungkook’s “the kid.” He miscommunicates, he’s shy around crowds, he took months to ask Yoongi out on a date. He’s so young, soft, and full of nerves. Jungkook’s just another (really, really hot) human, and Yoongi had let himself get in his head and work it up into so much more.

“Okay,” Yoongi clears his throat, “so let’s be us, okay?”

Jungkook nods. Lots of nodding.

“Okay,” Yoongi says again like a fucking broken robot because that’s kind of what he is right now, “let’s think about what we like to do.”

There’s silence for a bit. Apparently, they’re both taking his advice seriously. Or maybe Jungkook’s doing what Yoongi’s doing. Going through everything he knows about Jungkook and realizing they don’t have much in common.

Jungkook does sports. Yoongi does sleep. Jungkook likes photos, but Yoongi doesn’t want to turn it into a photo session. Jungkook tries everything, Yoongi likes to play it safe. They could hang out with their friends, but that feels like a copout. Goddammit, why can’t they just ride around and say nothing on Jungkook’s bike? Yoongi loved that, they were close and it reminded him of the--

“I know what we can do,” Yoongi says. Jungkook’s head pops up, eyebrows still furrowed from being deep in thought. “Did you bike here?”

Another goddamn nod. Yoongi throws back his coffee.

“Come on, I have something I want to show you.”

Yoongi likes coffee. And he loves cute, quiet, art deco shops. But he likes wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s waist and flying down the road much more. He shouts out directions each time they hit a stoplight. This is easier, clinging close to Jungkook, only needing to talk when he guides him. It gives Yoongi time to cope with the situation now that it’s happening.

He’s on a date. He and Jungkook both want to impress each other. Jungkook is still just a cute kid with a big heart, and Yoongi’s still his usual self in much tighter jeans.

They wind around the final curb, and the dirt parking lot appears. Jungkook rolls to a stop in the mostly empty lot. Yoongi dismounts, grabbing onto Jungkook’s shoulder as he stumbles.

“Do you like hiking?” Jungkook asks, popping his helmet off and shaking out his hair. Goddamn, what about the bike makes him look infinitely hotter?

“Not exactly,” Yoongi mutters. He cocks his head towards the wooded path, sticking his hands in his pockets. Jungkook’s eyes dart to Yoongi’s hidden hands. As Jungkook closes in, swinging his camera over his shoulder, Yoongi takes them back out. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle a bit. He takes Yoongi’s pinky as he walks on by.

Oh my god, Yoongi’s gonna die. He’ll fucking die in this fairytale forest walking with Jungkook holding his pinky to one of his favorite places.

He is sappy as fuck.

Down the path, they don’t talk. Yoongi’s not sure if it’s the jostling, but Jungkook might be squeezing his pinky. They step over broken branches and overturned rocks towards the clearing ahead.

“Tada,” Yoongi says at the end of the path. “I thought you might want to take pictures.”

Before them is one of Yoongi’s favorite places. On this cloudy day, the placid lake reflects the clouded skies. It appears like a mirror, only interrupted by the occasional fish testing out whatever has fallen on the water. The shore’s lined with small pebbles and the feet of different passing animals. Many of the trees grow up to the lake’s edge, but the area around the small pier has been cleared so it’s easy to walk boats on over.

“I like hanging out here,” Yoongi says, nervously rubs at the bunched fabric of the jeans. “I don’t know, we can both enjoy it. I thought you might want to take pictures.”

Yoongi likes this much better already. Calm, easy. The opposite of Jungkook. Yet he still likes Jungkook. And Jungkook seems to like the scenery.

Jungkook gasps, taking off to the water’s edge. He stretches his arms wide like he wants to hug the whole lake. He gets distracted, bending down to take a photo of something on the shore. Then he runs over to a branch with the first signs of spring, taking several different angled shots.

He turns to Yoongi to shout about something he’s seen, but he pauses. His mouth hangs open before he’s adjusting the camera quickly. He redirects to Yoongi.

Oh, Yoongi’s smiling. Smiling like a dumbass on the edge of the forest while Jungkook traipses about the shore.

Yoongi tries not to hide. He shoves his hands back in his pockets and gives a genuine smile. Jungkook’s knees buckle as he steps closer, to the side, snapping every now and again as Yoongi gets more flustered. That first night on the couch, Jungkook had also snapped a shot of Yoongi’s smile. And at the coffee shop. He rubs the back of his neck as Jungkook snaps yet another photo much closer.

Not sure what to do besides not freak out, Yoongi sits on the shore (which he honestly can’t believe he can bend his legs in these fucking jeans). This works. Yoongi likes watching Jungkook run about smiling. He likes how with Jungkook, he can sit here. Jungkook’s not asking him to join him, he seems just as content. It doesn’t feel awkward.

Until Jungkook finally comes over and plops down next to Yoongi.

Then it’s awkward.

Jungkook’s so close. There’s no table in between them and no need for proximity like on the bike. His palms rest on either side, hands close to Yoongi’s but not quite touching. He stares straight ahead, but there’s the obligation. They’re together, they should be talking.

Yoongi knows exactly what he wants to talk about. Why. How did this happen? But it seems like too much. He checks his phone.

_ Your Hope Your Angel :D _

_ R u having fun :3 _

_ R u making out _

_ Is it good _

_ Bet it’s hot _

Yoongi’s cheeks burn as he shoves his phone back in his pocket. All they’ve done is hold hands like fucking preschoolers. Actually, they’ve held hands twice. So why not right now?

“Are you gonna hold my hand again?” Yoongi asks. He can’t think of anything else to say.

Jungkook glances down at their hands. He nudges his pinky over Yoongi’s again and the rocks shift beneath their hands.

“I know you’re not touchy with most people.”

Yoongi swallows. Fair. Not fair to his dumb personality. He takes Jungkook’s hand in his own. “You’re not most people.”

Okay, that was good. It was… close to something affectionate, right? Jungkook watches Yoongi, but Yoongi is too embarrassed to take his eyes off the view.

Silence again. The sound of the occasional pebble shifting and the lap of the water fills the void. It soothes Yoongi, but his heart keeps racing. It’s going to keep racing and he’s not going to think of anything to say until he asks what’s been bothering him since his epiphany about Jungkook’s feelings.

He turns to Jungkook. Jungkook smiles softly, eyes flitting over the scene. He’s so cute. He’s so hot. He’s so talented.

Yoongi chews on his cheek, trying to think about how to be more tactic about this. But he gives up, and asks, “Why do you like me?”

The smile falters. “Huh?”

Yoongi scoots to face Jungkook. “I’ve got to know. It’s been driving me fucking nuts. Why the hell do you like me?”

His question came out more like a petulant accusation. Curse his fucking pout turning everything he’s serious about into a whine.

A strange smile scrunches Jungkook’s cheeks like he’s fighting between different feelings. Jungkook takes a deep breath.

“Hyung, I… I’ve liked you for a long time,” Jungkook murmurs.

Yoongi waits for him to continue. When he doesn’t, he asks, “Wait, did you actually stalk me?”

Jungkook lets out an apologetic laugh. Yoongi isn’t sure if he should run.

“No, not like that,” Jungkook tongues at his cheek. Fuck him, Yoongi thinks. He’s hyped up on nerves and sexy-hot-date vibes and now all his focus is on Jungkook’s mouth. Thank god Jungkook ducks his head, finger absently tracing the rocks between his feet. Yoongi understands. Maybe the conversation is easier to have between Jungkook and the rocks rather than Yoongi.

“Um, so, okay. I prepared this… I met Tae two years ago. And he and Jimin, they were my only friends here. I just had Jin and them. I’m, um, not good at the friends thing. I spent a lot of time with them. And... well, Taehyung played your music a lot. Not the stuff he played in the store and I’m still sorry for calling it trash.”

Yoongi just nods, trying to catch up with the fact that this story is starting  _ two fucking years ago _ . He’s also having trouble focusing, what with the rushing in his ears. Is he gonna go deaf before Jungkook gets to finish?

“Well, I liked it. Your music. And then he showed me your picture. Because he likes you a lot. He thinks you’re super cool. And well, seeing you through his eyes makes it easy to like you, too.”

Jungkook glances up. Yoongi wets his lips, unable to cope with how fucking small this huge ass boy looks while he tells this story. Knees up to his chest, rubbing at stones while he refuses to release Yoongi’s hand. Like Yoongi will run away once he hears the truth. Yoongi might run away regardless. His heart might burst from his chest. He can feel his pulse in his temples.

“You… you’re so cute,” Jungkook breathes out a heavy sigh. “I couldn’t believe everything Tae said about you would match how cute you were. And then, when I got a job and Jinnie had to start taking me with him, I… I met you. The first time I met you, I wanted to say hi. I was so nervous. I’d heard so much about you. How you’d scolded Taehyung through his calculus class. How you took care of Jimin one time he got sick and no one was home. But… wow, you looked so fucking tough. So cool. You looked so different in photos. I clammed up. I tried the next time, but you… you were in day clothes because you were covering for Hope because of some dance competition. You went from tough to hot to cute and I couldn’t figure it out. I kept hearing these amazingly kind stories about you, I saw those soft eyes in every photo, but in person, you were terrifying. I guess… I guess I kind of became intrigued with you.”

Yoongi has no fucking idea what to say to any of this. If his ass wasn’t falling asleep and hurting like a bitch, he’d think he’s dreaming.

“You probably don’t remember, but when you came to Tae and Jimin’s housewarming party, I almost died when you sat next to me. You looked so cool and casual. Not the guy who takes shifts and makes soup. Yet, when I couldn’t help but take a picture, the you in the lens didn’t match. I… I don't know… like… captivated by you. There’s so much… you. And when you smile… I just…”

Jungkook tries to cover his blushing face then jolts when he realizes one is still entangled with Yoongi’s. He peeps over, to Yoongi’s most likely jaw-dropped mouth, then hides between his knees.

“I’m sorry, it sounded cooler. I’d been rehearsing it for weeks and I thought at this point maybe you’d, I don’t know, be so moved by my passion that you’d kiss me or something so I could stop talking.”

Yoongi coughs. Oh shit, he hadn’t been breathing. The mere idea of kissing Jungkook, of Jungkook saying the word kiss, sent him into overdrive and he literally gasps for air.

Yoongi doesn’t know where to begin. He’s ashamed that Jungkook’s been watching him all this time. he woulda tried to come off a bit better. And maybe showered more often.

But that’s the thing. They were fine the way they were. Jungkook liked Yoongi. As Yoongi. Apparently. And Yoongi liked Jungkook for…

“Fuck, I just thought you were hot,” Yoongi states.

Jungkook goes rigid, and somehow he curls in even more on himself.

Yoongi groans at himself. “Fuck, no that’s not what I meant.”

Holy shit he sounds winded, he is. His heart hasn’t stopped running a mile a minute. “Um, yeah. Okay, I can’t top anything you said. You’re just like, kind of everything I want.”

Slowly, Jungkook straights back up. His mind processes Yoongi’s words, but Yoongi’s not sure if they are really sticking. Then, Jungkook squeezes his legs, tucks his shoulders up, and the biggest, goofiest giggle accompanies a toothy smile. It’s so sweet. The sound is so earnest, so light, so full of joy.

“And that,” Yoongi follows up with. His boyishness. His soft heart and determined mindset. Even if it’s best expressed in a lamb skewer competition or prattling off his grades. He’s determined, despite Yoongi’s obliviousness. He becomes consumed by whatever he chases, even if it’s something like love. He’s always been earnest, and honest, and Yoongi wants that, too.

“I saw you jerking off,” Yoongi says for the sake of honesty. Wow, this is shit compared to Jungkook’s declaration. But he can’t really go any further with this until it’s out in the open.

Jungkook’s hands launch to his crotch like he’s been exposed. Yoongi’s entire body seizes as his hand lands over Jungkook’s zipper. Jungkook releases his grip on Yoongi’s hand with a long whine, rolling over to hide his face in the pebbled shore. Holy shit, those pants do wonders for his ass. “What?”

“You said my name,” Yoongi continues. “So I came over. It was just a second.”

Jungkook rolls back and forth in the rocks while he groans into them. He’s so loud that birds escape from a nearby tree.

“It just… it was an accident but I still felt like I invaded your privacy,” Yoongi shrugs and tugs at his ear.

Jungkook sits up, sniffling over his pride. “You knew I liked you?” 

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t say something?”

“Well,” Yoongi stands. He’s too jittery. This is too much deep shit for him in one day. “It seemed like you really wanted to be the one to do it. So I thought I’d let you. Maybe with a nudge or two.”

Jungkook stands, too. He takes Yoongi’s hand. Then the other. Yoongi stares at their hands. Despite the height difference, they’re roughly the same size. Jungkook’s much softer. He may come just from the double-hand holding.

“Hyung,” Jungkook blushes. “Thank you.”

Yoongi just nods. He can’t look in Jungkook’s large, brown eyes. The affection he sees there overwhelms him. 

“I, um, I like that about you,” Yoongi mutters. He furrows his brows at his own shyness. “That you go after what you want. Even if it takes you a bit. It’s… earnest.”

Yoongi takes a peek back at Jungkook, but Jungkook isn’t looking at him. Specifically, he’s zeroed in on the bottom half of Yoongi’s face. Yoongi watches Jungkook watch him.

For maybe half a minute.

Not this again.

“You gonna do it?” Yoongi eventually asks. Because he really, really needs Jungkook to do it. To kiss him. His whole body is quivering, desperate to touch him in every way possible.

Jungkook jumps. His eyebrows arch in embarrassment, his lips forming a pout. Jesus that’s cute. “Don’t bring it up like that!”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asks, lip curling in confusion.

“You can’t rush stuff like this!”

Dammit. Yoongi takes a step closer. Jungkook sucks in a breath. They’re almost chest to chest. Yoongi angles his head a bit.

“Can’t rush what? Jungkook?” Jungkook’s eyes bulge. “What are you trying to do, huh?”

Jungkook’s mouth twitches. Yoongi thinks he’s going to do it, lets his eyes start to flutter closed. Lets his defenses down. He hears Jungkook take another deep, settling breath. Yoongi squeezes his hands, urging him on.

But Jungkook jerks away as his phone goes off. He practically lunges two steps back. Yoongi’s hands are immediately cool, and he can’t help the flare of irritation.

“Hello?” Even at this distance, Yoongi can hear Jimin and Taehyung screaming into the phone. Now he’s really annoyed.

Jungkook’s face darkens even deeper. He’s probably going to have a headache from all the blood rushing. Yoongi, too, for that matter.

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“No!” Jungkook shouts. Yoongi has a feeling he knows exactly what questions Jungkook is hearing as he checks his own phone again, seeing a slew of lude texts from Hope.

“Maybe!” Jungkook shouts. He jams the phone back into his pocket. He stares at the sky, inhales deeply, and exhales. Yoongi wants to know the “maybe.” Really, really wants to know.

“Hey,” Yoongi tries, “that’s something we have in common. They drive us both nuts.”

Jungkook giggles a bit at that. Unfortunately for Yoongi, he tucks his hands back in his jacket pockets. “Do you want to go back to mine?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot into his fringe. “So you want it that way, huh?”

Jungkook trips over a branch. He turns back with an annoyed glint in his eyes. Yoongi likes it a lot more than he expected. “For game night. It’s game night. Playing games.”

Yoongi chuckles to himself. He takes off down the path ahead of Jungkook. “Sure.”

This wasn’t bad. A good awkward first date. They’re not supposed to be perfect. Maybe on the next one, they can--

Wait a minute.

Yoongi stops on the sidewalk in front of Jungkook’s place.

“Are we dating?” Yoongi asks.

Jungkook drops the door key. He fumbles for them as Yoongi comes closer. “Um, I would like that.”

Yoongi tries to keep from pumping his fists in public.

So, he’s dating- somehow by some miraculous pass of karma- Jungkook. Jungkook, his… holy shit.

Yoongi marches up the steps until he’s facing Jungkook at the front door. “You’re my boyfriend?”

“Um,” Jungkook bounces on his heels, curling his lips in to hide his smile. “That’s really direct but yeah that’d be cool, too.”

Yoongi smiles wide. It hurts, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s so fucking excited and Jungkook looks absolutely, as he said, captivated by the grin.

Jungkook snaps out of his trance and clears his throat to ask, “How was the date?”

“Didn’t you call it  _ your _ date?” Yoongi cackles. Jungkook makes a disapproving sound, brows dipping low. “Well, is it over?”

“Oh, um,” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, “I thought now that we were with everyone…”

“It was great,” Yoongi interrupts.

“Just… great?”

“Ya,” Yoongi huffs. He lightly kicks at Jungkook’s shoes. “You’re not the only shy one.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jungkook’s shoulders scrunch up. His eyes crease with nervous giggles. They’re really close again. Less than a few inches apart on the stoop. Every emotion that had settled down during the ride back starts to bubble up again, blend in with all the cheer and push Yoongi’s confidence a step further.

“Kook,” Yoongi tries out. He wanted to say it for so long. The cute nickname the other boys have for him. He tucks a few strands of hair behind his ear. Jungkook freezes then giggles a bit more at the affectionate name. Yoongi’s heartstrings pull so hard it hurts. “You are so cute.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, not sure what to do with the attention. He twists his mouth to conceal his excitement, and it looks so silly. His hands settle tentatively on Yoongi’s hips. Electricity sparks from where Yoongi’s held, seering through his jacket, deep under his skin. He wants more of him. This grown man with his shoulders tucked and his mouth screwed and nose scrunched. It’s too much for Yoongi, too much for his heart.

“Can I kiss you?” Yoongi asks before he can back out, palm resting on Jungkooks’ cheek. Jungkook’s lips part in surprise. Yoongi admires his cupid’s bow and the light pink of his lips. Jungkook nods once, fingers bunching up the sides of Yoongi’s shirt.

Yoongi swallows, wetting his lips. Jungkook’s transfixed, doing the same. Yoongi gently pulls Jungkook down into the kiss.

It’s short, soft. Not exactly chaste, but nothing too much. He expected to be electrified by the nerves, a fire overtaking his insides. Instead, he finds himself fuzzy, the rushing in his ears dulling to a low thrum. He shudders at the relief.

At first.

When their lips part, Jungkook follows with a disapproving grunt. He presses back, slotting their lips together. Yoongi snaps his eyes open, but Jungkook’s are pressed tight. He can’t help but smile. Jungkook feels it, and his grip on Yoongi’s waist tightens, arms snaking around. With another trade of their lips, Jungkook nips at Yoongi’s bottom lip.

“Sh-” Yoongi tries to swear but he can’t when Jungkook’s tongue laps over his bottom lip, moving back to kiss at his top lip, noses rubbing as Jungkook kisses him deeper and deeper. Jungkook continues with a kind of confidence Yoongi didn’t expect. It’s different than his stuttered words and shy glances. It’s powerful, taking control. And it’s so good. Jungkook envelopes him, body crowding around him and all he can smell is the soft scent of fresh linen and something a little fruity. He’s not sure what. 

When Jungkook starts to slow his kisses, Yoongi grabs his jaw with both hands, keeping him there while he inhales the unknown scent, uniquely Jungkook. It’s toxic, filling him with a warm, earnest feeling. Like Jungkook’s very being is infecting him, overtaking him with every kiss. 

Yoongi wants it. He wants all of Jungkook in this moment.

He licks into Jungkook’s mouth. He moans, and it’s absolutely riveting. Yoongi hums in response to hopefully hear more. It’s stupid and cliche, but he thinks Jungkook tastes sweet and almost floral. Everything about him is sweet, yet his actions are so strong. They continue to pull each other closer and closer. Jungkook hugs him close and Yoongi’s hands travel into his hair. It’s like they’re trying to mold into one, delve deeper into each other.

“Why the fuck are you just stan-- for crying out loud!” Jin wails. In a second, Jungkook’s untangled himself from Yoongi, bracing on the railing behind him. Yoongi stands, hands still held out where he pulled Jungkook into him. There’s a stiff silence as Jin’s eyes dart down to where Jungkook’s crotch bulges in his slacks.

“Oh my god, I’ve been scarred, I can’t- just- later- rules,” Jin sputters out, covering his face and blindly feeling for the way back inside.

Jungkook and Yoongi watch the door until it closes then look back at each other. Jungkook’s hair is mussed, his lips bruised, cheeks dark red, chest heaving.

It’s unbelievably sexy and all for Yoongi.

His boyfriend.

The mere thought has Yoongi dragging him back into the kiss.

“Jin-” Jungkook tries to start, still melting into Yoongi’s touch.

“He said later,” Yoongi retorts between kisses.

Jungkook gives a dry, strangled laugh. He cups Yoongi’s face. Yoongi can’t help but sigh.

“Later,” he agrees and kisses Yoongi again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to know, Hope dressed Yoongi in the Fake Love MV outfit. Jungkook is wearing typical airport Taehyung, button-up blouse, gucci sandals, slacks.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idiots to lovers more like idiots to overthinkers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! So, this manic fic has grown to 11 chapters now. Oops. This got kinda angsty.  
> Btw I know nothing about music production so yeah some terms or basically anything about what Namjoon and Yoongi do might be wrong.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend Boyfriend Boyfriend Boyfriend Boyfriend.

He has a boyfriend, Yoongi thinks as he helps a customer with a malfunctioning coupon.

Jungkook is his boyfriend, he chuckles to himself as he mops up a broken bottle of wine.

Boyfriend, he giggles as he subs on register.

Holy shit, Jungkook is his boyfriend, he smiles as he spins the little plastic stick round and round again in his instant coffee.

“It’s amazing,” he hears Taehyung at the table behind him.

“I know,” says Hope, equally amazed.

“If I’d known this, I woulda introduced them months ago,” Taehyung whisper yells.

Yoongi turns, coffee in hand as he leans on the counter. He sends them a smile, not even perturbed by Taehyung’s ugly neon green sweater contrasting with the yellow store vest. “Yeah, thanks!”

Taehyung’s jaw drops. He scooches his chair closer to Hope, the sound of metal on tile ringing through the small space but barely affecting Yoongi and his mood.

“Hyung, I think he’s sick,” Taehyung says to Hope without taking his eyes off Yoongi.

“Ah,” Hope muses with a dreamy expression, placing his head in his hands on the table. “He’s lovesick.”

The word “love” snaps Yoongi out of his daze. He coughs, settling down in one of the break room chairs. Even the sad fake plant in the corner looks more alive these days. “If we’re all back here, who’s running the store?”

“I hide from difficult customers on occasion, too” Hoseok shrugs. Then, sliding into Yoongi’s personal space he adds, “The store could close if it means I got to watch you float on cloud nine like this.”

“It’s really cute, Hyung. Does Jungkook see you like this?” Despite his teasing words, Taehyung’s smile is genuine.

“Do I what?”

Hope almost falls out of his chair at the sound of Jungkook’s voice behind them. Once again, Yoongi scrutinizes his coffee like maybe it’s a magic lamp. Did it summon Jungkook’s presence again?

Last time Jungkook had snuck into the breakroom, Yoongi misunderstood. He thought Jungkook was dating Taehyung. But this time, Jungkook’s here as Yoongi’s boyfriend. Of two weeks.

“Do you get to see how absolutely head over-- ow!” Taehyung wails as Yoongi whacks him over the head. Yoongi stands, straightening his trashy little vest. Jungkook looks great. Too great, in his baggy workout clothes as usual when he comes at this time of day. The stale light of the breakroom does nothing to dim the way he shines.

Jungkook’s stopped by the store more often. And with both their schedules, he’s seen Jungkook only a handful of times in between. Which sucks, because Yoongi’s never wanted to see someone so much. It’s nothing like when Hope helps him recharge after a long day. It’s like his entire being pulls him towards Jungkook. Each time, he’s overwhelmed by how much he missed Jungkook.

It’s been a lot. A lot for Yoongi to get used to. Now that he knows Yoongi likes his pictures, he texts Yoongi pictures all day. He stops by the store more often. Yoongi likes the idea that Jungkook thinks of him throughout the day and does his best to do the same. He texted Jungkook good morning the other day, then Jimin sent him a screenshot of Jungkook sending Jimin the screenshot saying he might throw up.

He thinks he’s doing okay. With the whole boyfriend thing. He wants to do okay. Except that all his excitement seems to shut down his fucking brain and he doesn’t know how to human anymore.

“How did you know we were here?” Yoongi asks after an extended pause.

“I asked Jimin where you were to say hi,” Jungkook smiles. Yoongi smiles back. Jungkook blushes. Yoongi blushes.

“So… Hi,” Jungkook mumbles. God, he looks so cute talking to Yoongi’s shoes like that.

“Hey,” Yoongi answers with a small nod. He tries to put his hands in his pockets, but realizes the vest is in the way. Jungkook saw it and chuckles. Yoongi chuckles in embarrassment. He should be saying something, but the whole shut down thing is happening. He just wants to kiss him. Touch him. Yoongi loves touching Jungkook. Reminding himself that Jungkook is there. Touching his skin, his cheeks, feeling how warm they are, how alive he is.

Hope’s chair screeches. Yoongi jumps, shooting him a look for interrupting the… standing that he and Jungkook are doing.

“You know you guys are dating, right?”

“Yeah,” Jimin’s voice pipes up behind Jungkook. Who is even working the floor right now? He wraps his arms around the boy so easily. “Why so shy? We all saw you suck face.”

Oh, yeah, Yoongi could be doing that-- wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. But whenever he actually sees Jungkook, he freezes. His words fail him. He doesn’t want to do something or say something wrong or stupid. This would be easier if they both weren’t so fucking shy. And Yoongi’s not even shy. He just thinks too much. Like right fucking now.

“So hot,” Taehyung chimes in.

Yoongi seizes up. They’d been caught more than once. Sue them if they want to hang out with their friends and each other. The whole talking thing and being alone is going slow, but the kissing and touching thing, Yoongi’s motor functions seem to be functioning just fine in that area. They tried to be sneaky. Kissing in the kitchen, on the porch, when they thought everyone had left. At this point, Yoongi is pretty sure that the other boys are _trying_ to find them whenever they runoff.

Yoongi clears his throat. “It’s getting hot in here with all the air in your heads.”

Jimin’s brow creases, ready to fight Yoongi, but Hope steps towards him.

“Okay, we’ll leave you be,” Hope offers. He grabs tweedle dee and tweedle dum by the collars and drags them out.

“But I want to watch!” Taehyung whines, trying to pull his collar free from Hope’s death grip.

The door closes, and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief. It’s easier with no one watching him look like an idiot.

Alone in the break room, Jungkook steps closer to Yoongi. He wraps his arm around Yoongi’s waist, dragging him in by the small of his back. He smells sweaty. Damn, it’s sexy. And Yoongi hates exercise.

Jungook tugs Yoongi closer, but he stops him. 

“Cameras,” Yoongi murmurs as Jungkook closes in. It pains him to say it. But he doesn’t want the area manager bringing him in to talk about this.

Jungkook pouts. “Hyung, I’m not always trying to kiss you.”

Yoongi cocks his head, eyes squinted. “Am I supposed to believe that?”

Jungkook purses his lips. Suddenly, Yoongi’s cheek smooshes into Jungkook’s sweaty chest. Yoongi squawks, the smell not as enjoyable up close, as Jungkook burrows his nose in Yoongi’s hair. He inhales deeply.

Yoongi scrabbles free, blushing as he shoots Jungkook an indignant look. He only smiles bashfully in return.

“You are romantically creepy,” Yoongi grumbles. He takes Jungkook’s hand, because he fucking can, and starts walking down the hall to the back exit. Jungkook just laughs, swinging their hands back and forth. It’s easier. Always easier when they’re close. Something about it reminds Yoongi that Jungkook is his, that he wants to be touched and teased and talked to.

“So,” Jungkook asks once they’re out back, “What are you doing this evening?”

Yoongi bites back his smile. A little because Jungkook looks so excited to hang out, and a little because of his actual plans. “I’m going to RM-- I mean Namjoon’s new studio.”

“What?” Jungkook pouts, turning to face Yoongi. It’s so cute. Pouting over how Yoongi is busy. “He didn’t invite me, not fair.”

Yoongi glares. Any mention of Namjoon from Jungkook sets his nerves on fire. “You’re jealous of me?”

Jungkook sighs, walking again. He kicks a rock, and all be damned if it doesn’t sore through some twigs like a field goal. “I haven’t seen Namjoonie hyung since my birthday. And now he moved his studio into the city and he still hasn’t come around…”

Yoongi continues glaring at Jungkook, but he doesn’t seem to get the message. Yoongi doesn’t like it. He has Jungkook now, but Namjoon was fucking aggressive last time. And now Namjoon’s moved into the area. He doesn’t like it.

Yoongi stops and Jungkook doubles back when Yoongi’s hand stops moving with him. He turns, a question coloring his eyes before Yoongi tugs on the gaping holes of his tank.

Yoongi doesn’t kiss Jungkook. He bites his bottom lip. Maybe a little rough. He gives Jungkook another warning look as he pulls back.

He’s not expecting Jungkook’s pink cheeks and slackening grip, tongue running back and forth over his bitten lip. Yoongi leans up, gives another tentative bite. Jungkook’s breath catches.

Oh, this is nice. 

“Why…” Jungkook trails off, peering into Yoongi’s eyes. But now that Yoongi has a taste, he wants more. He pulls Jungkook’s lip between his own. Jungkook’s hands run up Yoongi’s back and hold him closer. He falls back onto the brick wall of the supercenter, Yoongi losing his footing and bracing on Jungkook for support. He can’t tell if his feet are even on the ground, lost in the soft hums bubbling up from Jungkook’s throat and into his mouth, the soft brush of his nose, the way the grip of his hands feels like they’re molding through the tension of Yoongi’s worrying mind.

Something shuffles in the forest behind the building and Jungkook jumps a bit. Fuck, Yoongi’s pants feel too tight as he stands up straight again. He can’t believe he keeps doing this. He hates PDA. Yet every time he can feel Jungkook’s touch, he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to. “It’s uh, kind of ridiculous to make out in my uniform. I can’t look hot.”

“Uh-uh,” Jungkook says, staying in his place against the wall. His chest heaves, the definition showing against his sweaty tank top each time he breathes in. “You do.”

Yoongi smiles. Jungkook’s brow furrows, eyes zeroing in on his face. “What?” Yoongi reaches to adjust his hair. “You fuck up my face?”

Jungkook grabs Yoongi’s hand. Warm, always so warm. “It’s just so nice.”

“What is?”

“Your smile,” Jungkook says, his own smile crinkling his eyes. Yoongi looks away. Too bad he couldn’t get a sunburn to play off how he gets hot like a fucking preteen every time Jungkook says shit like this. He’s becoming a sappy fuck.

“Yeah, you’ve said that before.”

“Oh!” Jungkook lets go of Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi eyes his hand with disdain. Empty. “I forgot I actually gotta buy some stuff before work. I’ll text you?”

Yoongi frowns at the way his heart jumps. Jungkook does this. He leaves every conversation ensuring they’ll speak again. It’s so fucking cute. Especially when Jin says Jungkook never answers his messages. So, Yoongi nods. Jungkook shuffles his feet, like he’s not sure what to do, how to say goodbye, since they already kissed, and then he jogs off. His fluffy hair bounces with each step. 

Yoongi shakes his head, like his sanity is finally returning now that Jungkook’s out of sight. He adjusts his pants then waddles back into his usual post. Not ten minutes later, Yoongi’s phone buzzes.

_Kook_

_Remember when Jimin said u wanted to go to the gym_

_Yoongi_

_I was just trying to play off the fact that u look hot in gym clothes_

Yoongi gets a notification from Jimin and Taehyung’s chat. It’s a screenshot of a screenshot of Jungkook and Yoongi’s conversation with Jungkook keyboard smashing underneath.

_Yoongi_

_FYI if u send anything to Taehyung and Jimin they send it to me_

_Kook_

_noted_

Yoongi gets about 5 notifications in a row next.

_Yoongi_

_They are sending me death threats now_

_Kook_

_thats ok_

_im gonna kill them first_

_Yoongi_

_Hot_

_Kook_

_Do u want to go to the gym with me_

_Yoongi_

_If u mean watch u_

_Yes_

_Kook_

_Hyung_

_Lets work out together_

_Yoongi_

_No_

_Kook_

_Helps with endurance_

_Jimin n Tae said u pass out all the time_

_Yoongi_

_Those are called naps_

_I like them_

_So no thank you_

_Kook_

_:(_

_Yoongi_

_-_-_

_Kook_

_:((((((((((((_

_Yoongi_

_Ur way brattier over the phone_

_Kook_

_:D_

_Yoongi_

_Fine_

_Kook_

_:DDDDD_

* * *

What a fucking month. He’s got a boyfriend for the first time in years. And now, he stands in front of one of the best up and coming rappers’ studios. That just so happens to be a childhood friend of his boyfriend.

He sighs, adjusting the beanie hiding his unkempt hair. He steps forward to the little nameplate with various buzzers.

“Yoongi?” Namjoon’s voice crackles through.

Yoongi nods, then realizes he can’t see him. “Yep.”

The door buzzes and Yoongi heads on up. It’s only the third floor of a small office building, but the interior would make you think otherwise. The walls are lined with stained wood, a large carved table sits in the middle, and two modern-style couches sit on either side of two doors. It looks more like a writer’s study than a rap studio.

And there’s Namjoon, standing in the middle of his studio. Yoongi’s surprised by his clothes, loose pants and a cardigan that’s more akin to a yukata. But that face, that confident gaze doesn’t surprise him one bit. “I’m impressed with how you don’t seem phased by me at all.”

Yoongi scoffs. Cocky motherfucker. “You’re just a dude who is good at one thing.”

“And I’m Jungkook’s childhood friend-” Yoongi stiffens “-does that bother you?”

“No.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “It should.”

Yoongi huffs. “I guess you could say I’m a little bothered, what with the way you fucking cuddled him all the time?”

“It’s not like that.” Namjoon laughs. Yoongi crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow in question. Namjoon shakes his head, walking around to the front of the oak table. “It’s not.”

“Then what is it.”

Namjoon rubs at his lips, most likely thinking of an excuse. “If Jin is Jungkook’s dad, then I’m like his mom.”

Yoongi scoffs again. “Mom? A mom would be a bit more encouraging of the kid’s dreams instead of telling him to focus on school.”

“Kid?” Namjoon asks. “Jungkook said he’s your boyfriend, not your kid.”

Yoongi’s mouth bobs. Oh, so Jungkook told him. Jungkook told Namjoon meaning he doesn’t think he needs to hide it.

“Look,” Namjoon starts, dropping some of his persona to level with Yoongi, “Jungkook is like my little brother. I only want the best for him. I don’t know if you are that. I don’t know if I’d ever think that of anyone. But he really likes you. And you are a good producer. I want to see your work.”

Very preachy, Yoongi thinks to himself. He shrugs off his bag. “Okay, you got a test or something?”

“Actually, I’ve got a spare studio,” Namjoon says, sweeping his arms towards one of the two doors.

Yoongi blinks.

“As in, I’d like to kind of give you a trial run,” Namjoon clarifies with an incredibly slow, patronizing tone.

Yoongi can’t be mad at the sass when he can’t breathe. A studio means better work. A studio with RM means collabs with RM. A collab means better recognition, more opportunities, more success. “Uh-huh.”

“Now I don’t consider myself childish, but there is a clause,” Namjoons says. Of course, here it is. _Break up with Jungkook_ or some shit. “If it’s not working, I’ll kick you out. My career isn’t in a place to take too many risks. I’ll also tell Jungkook you suck.”

Yoongi twists his mouth in displeasure. That is pretty childish. But Namjoon isn’t done. He steps closer. Shit, he’s tall. He looks a bit menacing staring down at Yoongi. Like a Doberman to a street cat.

“If you break Jungkook’s heart, I’ll ruin your whole fucking career. And you’ll work at that supercenter for the rest of your life to make up for crushing a boy as sweet and pure as him.”

Yoongi swallows. That’s a lot. But he still hears his cocky ass say, “Yeah, okay, sounds cool.”

Namjoon quirks an eyebrow, wondering if Yoongi really thinks so. Yoongi quirks one back, letting him know yes, he is taking this challenge. He simultaneously wants to back down and stand up for himself. Suddenly, the flint in Namjoon’s eyes transitions to a sparkle as he looks over Yoongi’s head (what a tall motherfucker) and says, “You made it!”

“Your new place is so cool!” Jungkook exclaims behind Yoongi. Calling something that does not involve Yoongi “cool.” Cool is definitely his adjective.

Yoongi glances over his shoulder. There he is. His boyfriend looking flawless in just a shirt and some jeans with his book bag thrown over his shoulder. Namjoon blatantly ignores Yoongi as he walks on over, slinging an arm around Jungkook who is all smiles. That big cute one with all his teeth as he excitedly takes in Namjoon’s new space. Namjoon watches Yoongi, sending him the smuggest sneer as Jungkook bounces next to him. When Jungkook looks over, Namjoon softens back into the soft puppy eyes from before.

“It’s not like that” my ass.

“Thought my new photographer should see the place,” Namjoon shrugs.

Jungkook gasps. Then, his arms flap widely. Goddammit, it’s too cute for Yoongi to be jealous. “Really? For real?”

“Photography, cinematography, anything I need,” Namjoon nods and he walks back to his desk. “But Jin said I have to make it a real job. So you’ll also help with some stuff like cleaning.”

“I’m good at cleaning!” Jungkook jogs in place to expel his excitement.

“And I guess anything he wants you to do,” Namjoon adds, opening his computer. 

“Huh?” Yoongi looks back over at a blushing Jungkook. The bastard knows how cryptic he’s being.

“He kind of told me I can use that room,” Yoongi points to the fogged glassdoor.

Jungkook curls his lips in, chest expanding before he exhales long and slow. “You two are both going to be here? And I get to be here? We’re all going to be here together?”

“Well, it sounds pretty shit when you put it like that,” Yoongi grumbles under his breath. Namjoon’s eyes snap up from the laptop. Yoongi shrinks back. “But great with you here.”

Was he just threatened to flirt with his boyfriend by his… mom?

Jungkook is clueless. He twists to and fro as he walks around the space, running his hands over the table, the couches, the walls. He’s so excited.

It’s fucking adorable. Yoongi wants to kiss that smile. 

“I guess we are going to continue our conversation later?” Yoongi asks Namjoon. Namjoon sends him a warning. So he just nods to Jungkook in the direction of the fogged door.

Holy shit. His own space. Not his cramped desk chair in his tiny apartment. He’s got a big comfy chair. A fucking _sofa_. A computer with a soundboard and other equipment Yoongi would have to scrounge to afford.

And he’s got a boyfriend in his studio.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says in awe, staring around the space. The same excited fingers trace over the knobs and switches of the soundboard.

“Mhm, pretty cool, huh?” Yoongi tries, wanting to reclaim his word. Fuck. Again. He can’t just spit out his thoughts.

Jungkook eyes him. Yoongi steps back, feeling like Jungkook could hear the annoyance in his tone. Jungkook takes another step closer. The back of Yoongi’s legs hit the desk.

Oh fuck, this is kind of hot.

“It’s really… um… it’s really sexy,” Jungkook says quietly. He’s got that same frustrated look on his face that Yoongi is starting to realize as trying-to-look-natural. Is it possible to be adorably hot?

“Surprisingly, I can be sexy,” Yoongi jokes with a smug roll of his shoulders. Jungkook just nods, leaning closer. Oh god, he’s so hot. He’s so close, his pink lips already parted. Yoongi tilts his chin, but Jungkook doesn’t kiss him. Yoongi tries to pull him in, hands nervous on the back of Jungkook’s neck.

But Jungkook just watches. Watches as his hands move from the soundboard to Yoongi’s thighs, slowly creeping up the sides of his jeans, smoothing over his hips. As his hands rest there for a second, he looks back at Yoongi. Yoongi hopes he looks frustrated and not completely lost in the wandering of Jungkook’s hands.

His thumbs brush under the hem of Yoongi’s shirt. The touch seers deep into Yoongi’s core, like Jungkook’s fingers are oil popping against his flesh. Yoongi’s breath catches in his throat, and Jungkook doesn’t miss it, eyes darting to Yoongi’s mouth now snapped closed. Still, no kisses, just the arch of an eyebrow taking note.

He can’t help but gasp again as Jungkook’s hands gently trace over Yoongi’s bare skin under his hoodie. It tingles, tickles almost, and Yoongi balls his fists in Jungkook’s shirt, biting his tongue. He wants him to kiss him, to stop watching him, to dig his thumbs into his hip bones. But Jungkook doesn’t. He intently watches every emotion flicker across Yoongi’s face as his touch travels higher, big eyes drinking in the way Yoongi’s eyes flutter a bit.

“Jungkook!” 

Jungkook’s hands dig into Yoongi’s ribs in shock. Yoongi chokes, keeling over at the sudden ticklish jolt. His face knocks into Jungkook’s throat and the boy emits a strangled cough. Yoongi tries to apologize, but Jungkook buries his face in Yoongi’s neck, completely spooked. Warm palms stick to his sides. Yoongi hopes they get stuck there.

“Kook?” Namjoon asks this time.

“I’m coming!” He muffles into Yoongi's collar, arms pulling free to wrap around Yoongi’s waist over his shirt this time. Yoongi laughs, not sure what the fuck kind of teasing he just experienced, completely breathless, patting at Jungkook’s shoulders which weigh him down.

“You aren’t moving,” Yoongi whispers into Jungkook’s temple. Holy fuck, he smells amazing as usual.

“But I barely hug you like this,” Jungkook whispers back. “Don’t you wanna hug?”

Yoongi pauses his pats. What? Of course he does. He doesn’t want to let Jungkook go. But he’s the adult here. He pats him two more times, then nervous Namjoon will come looking, tries to pry his boyfriend off of him.

The look Jungkook gives him is unexpected. The pout seems more than teasing, but it vanishes, replaced by a smile as he kisses Yoongi’s cheek. It’s so fucking soft, Yoongi can’t help but reach up to touch the only kiss he got as Jungkook heads back to the lobby.

Jungkook pops his head back in, and Yoongi straightens quickly. “We still good for the gym?”

Yoongi frowns. “I was hoping you’d forget.”

“I’d never forget a date with you,” Jungkook’s voice is squeaking by the end of his sentence, already ducking out of sight as his cheeks turn pink.

Yoongi chuckles. He spends the rest of the afternoon fiddling with his new equipment and peaking out to watch an anxious Jungkook get to work.

Despite all that happened, Yoongi’s ready to leave the studio by the end of the day. Especially when Namjoon almost stabbed Yoongi with a letter opener when he didn’t hug Jungkook goodbye. Regardless, he’s in a good mood as he heads home, wondering why things are going in his favor lately.

Boyfriend. Studio. Good things ahead. So why does he feel so nervous?

“I’m glad you’re in such good spirits still,” Hope says when Yoongi gets home.

Yoongi nods, heading to the bathroom to wash his face and return to reality.

“That means you won’t be as mad when we finish,” Hope says, closing the door behind him. Oh, fuck. He has the black gloves on again, the green hair dye in hand.

Yoongi shakes his head, eyes pleading. “Hobi, no.”

“Hobi, yes,” Hope mocks, an evil smile taking over his face. Yoongi cowers to the toilet, and Hope just rubs his hands, ready to enact his bet.

Within minutes, Hope wrangles Yoongi into a seated position on the toilet, hair bleaching to prepare for the green goop he mixes at the sink. Yoongi stares solemnly ahead. A lot happened today. His brain might give out when he looks in the mirror. Maybe that’s a good thing.

He can’t stop thinking. About why he can’t talk in front of Jungkook. About how Jungkook’s hands felt on his skin. How Namjoon is weird. How he can tease Jungkook one moment and barely move the next. That weird look on Jungkook’s face.

Hope pauses his humming to assess Yoongi’s blank expression. “You’re being oddly complacent about this.”

“I feel…” Yoongi trails off. He’s not sure what he feels. No, he knows what he feels, he’s just not sure how to fix it. “I feel bad. Like I’m being bad. At everything and getting things and maybe things will realize I’m bad and go away.”

Hope hums in response. Yoongi glances up and almost gets green gunk in his eye. “You agreeing?”

Hope chuckles, a sad smile on his face as he paints Yoongi’s head. “Yoongi, you always get like this whenever something happens.”

“Like what?”

“Pent up. Melancholic. Kinda poetic in a way,” Hope muses with a frown to match Yoongi’s.

“Poetic isn’t making me a good boyfriend,” Yoongi grumbles.

“Ah, that’s it,” Hope nods like he understands. Yoongi waits. Hope might understand. He seems to have the answer whenever Yoongi doesn’t. “Are you even analyzing what’s happening around you or just your own thoughts?”

Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Hope’s right. Whenever things are good, Yoongi panics. He has a right to. Good things make you happy. But bad things will always happen, and they hurt more when you’re happy. Hope continues, “You’re in your head too much. Don’t ever make decisions based on fear, Yoongi. Make decisions based on hope and possibility.”

Yoongi’s frowns deepens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hope just chuckles. “That’s all I’m giving you. It’s your relationship and your career, figure it out.”

“Fucking cryptic,” Yoongi grumbles, but he reaches out a hand to hook his fingers in the hole of Hope’s jeans, keeping him close. It’s always comforting enough to just reach out like this and have Hope with him. “Making me look like a clown and giving me bad advice.”

“You’re welcome,” Hope laughs, happy and carefree as always. “You’ve had a boyfriend before, it’s nothing new.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend like Jungkook, though,” Yoongi admits. There’s something nice in that. Finally saying it. Finally admitting he’s feeling insecure and kind of scared his current reality will collapse.

But apparently, it is not nice to Hope. He juts his hip, splattering green on his shirt. “Excuse you, Jungkook’s never had a Yoongi either. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Yoongi blushes, grabbing onto Hope’s pants. It’s small, but he feels comforted by it. Hope ruffles the gloopy locks on his head.

“You’re like a lil’ pot plant. Could have been my mascot,” Hope chuckles. Yoongi smiles a little. Hope always checks in on him, cheers him up, even if he’s a grump about it regardless. Which makes him realize he hasn’t done much of that for Hope recently.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm,” Hope asks, painting Yoongi’s sideburns. “It’s good.”

“But,” Yoongi furrows his brows. He’s not one to push this stuff but Hope pushes him. “Like, things going okay? I’ve kind of been all about me lately.”

“Ooooh, Yoongs…” Hope giggles, angling Yoongi’s face to his in smeared green gloves. “You really are going soft!”

Yoongi blushes again and tries to look away. Hope continues, “But yeah. I’m adjusting. I’ve got dance. Jungkook’s helping my promotions a lot. Talented kid, you snagged there. Talks about you a lot.”

Yoongi can feel his face burning hotter and bats Hope’s hands away to duck out of sight into Hope’s hip.

“YOONGI!” Hope screams, jerking away. Yoongi peers up into Hope’s now green-soaked crotch.

“Oops.”

* * *

By the time Yoongi and Jungkook’s gym date rolls around, Yoongi’s glad to have an excuse not to head to the studio or feel like he’s being pressured to woo Jungkook in front of Namjoon. Not that Jungkook could make it by again, as he had his real job. Apparently he’s trying for a promotion. Always pushing forward.

They texted about the gym. Yoongi likes texting. Jungkook’s silly on text, and Yoongi can have time to think. They decide to meet at the supercenter which is relatively close to Jungkook’s gym of choice. As Yoongi walks over, he debates if he should tell Jungkook he’s on his way. Instead, Jungkook beats him to it.

Yoongi shakes his head. He’s being stupid. Hope told him it’s all in his head. But Jungkook seems to be doing better at this than him. He’s not even sure what the “this” is that he should be good at.

Yoongi takes a look at himself in the supercenter’s security camera as he walks in. God forbid he can’t even figure out damn gym clothes. He tugs at the workout clothes Hope let him borrow, knowing at least Converse are okay wherever they go.. Jungkook’s always in them anyways.

And compression shorts. The mere thought of Jungkook at the gym had him a little hard at this point.

“Holy shit,” Jimin breathes, dropping three or four headphones he was balancing.

Yoongi grimaces because he knew this would happen. Jimin covers his mouth, staring at Yoongi’s neon head. The worst part of this bet is the attention he’s getting. Hope knew that.

“Yoongi,” Jimin says. “Yoongi, you look so... hot.”

Yoongi glares at Jimin. “I do not.”

“Holy shit,” Yoongi turns, feeling like he has Deja Vu, as Taehyung drops the phone box he was carrying.

“Stop breaking shit!” Yoongi shouts.

“Jimin,” Taehyung says, “warn Jungkook.”

Yoongi’s heart stops. “What?”

Jimin’s already pulling out his phone. Yoongi curses himself for scurrying closer. “What? Is it that bad?”

Jimin stops texting, looks up, and has the most disapproving look on his face. “Are you fucking serious?”

Yoongi fumbles. Feeling flustered makes him feel vulnerable.

“Dude,” Taehyung wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Jungkook is going to straight cream his pants… in a romantic way.”

Yoongi glances over at Taehyung. Taehyung stares at his hair. But… it’s the same look as when Yoongi yells at him so fast it sounds like rapping. Taehyung is enthralled by Yoongi’s hair.

They think Jungkook will like it. Yoongi smiles like an idiot to himself.

“Oh my god, Jimin, Jungkook’s gonna die,” Taehyung says as he stoops to point at Yoongi’s smiling face. “Look at this.”

Jimin shakes his head with a sigh, tapping away. “I’ll plan the funeral.”

Yoongi wants to be angry, but he can’t even manage. He can’t hide the smile on his face. He thought the hair looked cool. He’s glad someone else does. He’s _really_ glad that Jungkook might agree.

Jimin gasps. He rushes forward, shoving at Yoongi’s shoulders. “Yoongi hide!”

Yoongi scrunches his nose at the shoving, groaning “What? What do you mean--”

“Oh shit,” Taehyung gasps quietly. “Too late.”

Yoongi violently shrugs off Jimin’s grabby hands and whirls. “The fuck are you--”

Jungkook stands by the registers, just where they said they’d meet. His feet are snapped together, hands balled at his sides. He looks like a soldier. Super awkward.

And super, super hot.

Jungkook’s not in his usual fit. No loose tanktops and baggy sweats. He’s wearing a tight fitted endurance top, clinging to every twist of his arms and curve of his torso. Shorts replace the sweats, showing off toned shins and thick thighs.

“Converse, really?” Yoongi says before he can stop himself. “You put a whole new fit together and still Converse?”

Jungkook blinks. He seems frozen in place. His eyes haven’t moved from the top of Yoongi’s head. But when Taehyung starts laughing, Jungkook’s brows scrunch together.

“What do you mean?” He fluffs the back of his hair. Holy fuck, his arms. His fucking arms. “This is what I wear all the time.”

“Oh, so you just wore those ripped up tanks to go to the grocery store?” Yoongi counters. 

Jungkook shrugs, tugging at the shirt. It snaps back into place immediately. “Wanted to impress you.”

“Well, your normal workout clothes are impressive enough though,” Yoongi grumbles at his shoes with a shrug, feeling as trash as his compliment. Jungkook’s cheeks redden and he ducks his head, fiddling with his phone.

“Hi, Jimin here,” Jimin interrupts. Yoongi and Jungkook both jump. Taehyung and Jimin lean against the phone displays, arms crossed. “Just wondering, why are you two still like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like panicked gays,” Taehyung explains.

“Okay cool let’s go now,” Jungkook says. He grabs Yoongi’s hand and starts tugging him toward the door. 

God help Yoongi’s dick, he looks even more devastating from the back.

Outside, the spring air cools their heads. It’s true. Every time they meet, it feels like it’s the first time again. Yoongi has the strange sense he’s supposed to start the conversation. He has no idea what to say besides pick on Jungkook’s outfit. But Jungkook already seems thrown off by the acknowledgment of it. It would probably be a shit thing to do. Does that make him a shit person? Maybe he should ask about his day, but he already knows he studied all day...

“I like your hair a lot,” Jungkook says. Yoongi looks over and Jungkook’s already looking. Yoongi reaches up to touch it. “You do?”

His eyes are wide, pupils bouncing around the sockets with each nod. “A lot. Cute.”

“I’m always cute,” Yoongi mumbles, but he smiles.

“You always call me cute, too,” Jungkook says.

“Yeah, well, right now you are hot,” Yoongi clarifies.

“Oh,” Jungkook clears his throat, standing straighter. And fuck, his chest is rock hard in that shirt. “That’s cool.”

“Just like me,” Yoongi answers. Jungkook starts walking a bit faster. Yoongi takes it as punishment for the teasing and picks up pace.

Once at the gym, Yoongi’s already winded from the walk there. He regrets everything about agreeing to this except for getting to see Jungkook in this fit. Though he does miss how much skin the tank top showed off…

Wow, he’s a pervert.

Jungkook shows him a few simple moves. The stretching gives Yoongi a chance to catch his breath. Just in time for Jungkook to teach him something terrifying like a Russian Twist. It’s horrifying.

“So basically, you just like pain?” Yoongi huffs, on his stomach after Jungkook tried to correct his plank form. Yoongi can feel the sweat clumping up his hair and is pretty sure he looks like a Gatorade commercial with blue running down his cheeks. Jungkook looks flawless, leaning back on his hands and long, toned legs spread before him.

“No pain, no gain,” Jungkook sings, rolling onto his back and jumping to his feet.

“Show off,” Yoongi grumbles. He hopes Jungkook continues to. Because honestly, having his heart rate this high and watching Jungkook do what he does best is really, really fucking hot.

Jungkook lunges over to a wall, and Yoongi just walks behind him. Once he reaches the wall, he turns, puts his feet out in front of him, and lowers down like he’s sitting in a chair.

It looks miserable.

"What are you doing?” Yoongi asks, standing at Jungkook’s feet. 

"Wall sits,” Jungkook says, voice even despite the lunges.

Yoongi scoffs, hooking a thumb over his shoulder but staring at Jungkook’s tensed thighs. "There's a chair over there"

"It works your glutes,” Jungkook shrugs, scooting a bit lower.

"Does it?" Yoongi asks, assessing Jungkook’s thighs. Fuck, if those shorts could just ride up a bit more. If Jungkook’s thighs look this good, what does his ass look like right now?

"You should try it," Jungkook says with an encouraging smile. When Yoongi glances up to send him a disapproving glare, he realizes he’s been caught trying to sneak a peek.

Might as well own it.

He takes another step forward, looks down at Jungkook who isn't even breaking a sweat still. He straddles Jungkook's legs, steadies himself on Jungkook’s shoulders, and sits down.

Jungkook chokes, now definitely sweating.

"You’re right, this isn't that bad," Yoongi says, settling his weight over Jungkook’s thighs. Thank fuck he wore compression shorts to hide his boner.

Jungkook grunts, his thighs shifting under Yoongi as his hands splay over Yoongi’s hips to adjust his weight. Wow. Compression shorts may not be enough.

"Can you squat like this too?"

"Not exactly," Jungkook says, brows knitted.

"Lame.”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip. Then, his hands hook behind Yoongi's knees, and he inhales deeply through his nose. Holy shit, is Jungkook about to throw him? Yoongi pleads with his eyes in the seconds he has before smashing the floor. 

But as he exhales, lips pursed, Jungkook stands and wraps Yoongi's legs behind him. Yoongi’s stomach drops as he’s raised into the air, supported by nothing but Jungkook’s hands on his ass. Jungkook starts to tip, so Yoongi clings on tight, but Jungkook just dips once, twice, grunting on each exhale as he concentrates on Yoongi’s shocked expression.

Yoongi can feel every muscle of Jungkook’s body flex against his, but he can’t draw his eyes away from the smug tilt to Jungkook’s lips. He licks his own, mouth incredibly dry. Holy shit Jungkook is strong. And hot. And he's staring right at Yoongi. Who is probably jaw dropped like an idiot.

Jungkook jostles Yoongi higher on his waist. He barely manages to muffle a surprised yelp.

"Tada," Jungkook exclaims. Yoongi blinks. He's definitely wrapped around Jungkook like a little bitch right now. And he loves it. Really loves it.

And Jungkook can tell. His smile quirks up, his features turning devilish. Holy shit that’s a lot to handle a few inches away. Yoongi feels even more helpless and it pisses him off a bit.

“What is that?” Yoongi demands, poking his finger in Jungkook’s cheek. “Are you smirking at me, you asshole?”

Jungkook chuckles bashfully, the laughs rumbling through Yoongi’s chest pressed close. His grip tightens on Yoongi’s ass. Wow, a smiling hot boy groping his ass. And his hands feel so _good_. Fuck it if Yoongi’s back arches just a little bit, wanting to egg him on, so close to--

"Hyung."

Yoongi's eyes snap up from Jungkook’s bottom lip bouncing over the syllable. The teasing is wiped from Jungkook’s face, swallowed down with the dip of Jungkook’s adam’s apple. Yoongi clears his throat, but his voice still comes out a bit hoarse, "Someone’s competitive."

“I never lose,” Jungkook whispers. He doesn’t let go, arms jostling Yoongi to keep him stable. And jostling everything in Yoongi’s pants that’s currently pressed to Jungkook’s abs. And his hold is so secure, he’s held so close, his boner rubbing against a fucking washboard. Yoongi could rut one out right now.

“Oh,” Jungkook gasps. Shit, Yoongi did roll his hips down. Fuck, he did it again. But it feels so good. So good to have Jungkook hold him like this, to be looking down at his soft features, to feel the grip on his ass tighten between those strong fingers. His weight drops a bit, eyes now level with Jungkook’s, his bulge now rubbing against-

Yoongi’s brain short circuits when he realizes what’s rubbing against him right now as Jungkook leans back to hold Yoongi’s weight, his tongue wetting parted lips.

The door to the weight room opens, the squeak a welcome warning. Jungkook practically drops Yoongi who almost stumbles over, dizzy from the shock and what he just felt. Two or three guys walk in, nodding to them. They nod back. Yoongi turns to Jungkook, who is staring at the ceiling, hands braced on the wall behind him. Yoongi looks up to, trying to crawl off the floor. 

“What’s up there?”

Jungkook assesses Yoongi who tries to stand as nonchalant as possible under the gaze of the new people in the room. There’s something that flickers in his expression again. The same thing from the other day. Yoongi doesn’t know what it is. Before he can ask, Jungkook heaves a big sigh. “My sanity.”

* * *

A few days later, still sore and achy, Yoongi stands at the door inside his small studio. It’s weird. He feels like he needs to knock on his door before walking into the lobby where Namjoon is. Well, technically, the rest of the space is _his_ studio. 

Working with Namjoon is… weird. Yoongi hadn’t thought about it before. Working with a famous musician. Namjoon’s not famous (yet) but he is famous in a sphere where Yoongi isn’t. He thought there would be constructive criticism, some kind of mentoring, connections.

There is that, definitely. But what he wasn’t expecting was Namjoon putting Jungkook’s happiness before everything else. He’s more terrifying than Jungkook’s actual parents. It’s like every time Jungkook shows up to work, Namjoon needs Yoongi to prove himself as a boyfriend. Honestly, Yoongi wishes Namjoon was trying to break them up. Someone trying to force him to make Jungkook happy is just… creepy.

And fucking difficult. Yoongi’s having a hard enough time figuring out his own thoughts. Having someone else’s looming over him isn’t helping.

But he deals with it. Because Namjoon is a fucking genius. In just a week or two, he’s proven he can find the gaps in Yoongi’s production, comes up with lyrics on the spot, can immediately interpret the mood Yoongi’s going for. He’s already snagged two or three of Yoongi’s beats for a future project. All in all, besides the creepy tension to practically fuck Jungkook in front of him, it’s been a good gig.

Fucking Jungkook. Yoong shakes his head. The boy whose hands haunted Yoongi’s every thought, strong arms grabbing at his ass, gentle touches teasing his skin in the studio he stands in. 

Yoongi shakes his head again, trying to man the fuck up. He can’t talk to Namjoon with a boner. It’s just a guy. Another guy who had more opportunities than him. The guy clearly wants him here. So he opens the door.

Namjoon’s not at his desk. He’s laying on the couch, propped on his elbows, jotting something in a notebook. He looks more like a teenager scribbling in a diary than a notorious underground rapper… Especially with sweater paws.

The fuck was Yoongi afraid of?

Namjoon glances over, twisting into a seated position. “Sup?”

“Sup,” Yoongi answers with a nod. He leans against his doorframe. Namjoon stares back. Oh right. He started this. “I need your advice.”

“Oh?” Namjoon asks, standing. “I was sure your pride would keep you from asking for help for at least another week.”

Yoongi presses his lips into a thin line. Cocky motherfucker. “I’m full of surprises.”

Namjoon hums, walking past Yoongi right into his studio like he owns the place. Well, he does.

Yoongi shoves his chair out of the way and drags the couch over for Namjoon to sit down next to him. It’s really the closest they’ve been since Namjoon got up in his grill about being a good boyfriend. Still fucking weird.

He hands Namjoon headphones and starts clicking around the desktop. The obnoxious song he can’t seem to fix starts playing and Namjoon’s eyes widen.

“I remember this song from your Soundcloud,” he listens a bit more, “it didn’t do well, right?” the song plays on a few more seconds, “I can feel that something needs to be here,” he remarks, rubbing his upper lip, “oh, maybe another instrument?”

Yoongi looks at him in aggravation. “How can you fucking hear it when you’re talking the whole time?”

Namjoon ignores him, continuing on, “I think there needs to be an extension here, like space for a bridge.”

Oh, that’s actually not bad. Yoongi licks his lips, nodding along.

“Can I try out something?” Namjoon asks, already taking off the headphones and exiting the room.

“Go right ahead,” Yoongi offers even though he’s already wandering back in with his journal. He flips through a few pages.

“Start it back up from the beginning,” Namjoon says.

“Please,” Yoongi adds on for the arrogant fucker as he clicks around. Namjoon sends him a warning look, so Yoongi just focuses on the screen.

“Okay, so right here,” Namjoon says, pointing at the moving cursor then looking at his notes. He mutters under his breath then starts to bring life to the words on the page, “There’s no name allow-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Yoongi says, closing his eyes as he realizes what Namjoon’s open to. “Hold on, I already got something for this part.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi shrugs, smile tickling his lips. “I kind of write some raps, too.”

Namjoon leans back, amusement coloring his features. Yoongi likes it, like he fucking one-upped him finally. “Okay then.”

“It’s this part,” Yoongi moves the cursor back towards the beginning, ghosting his fingers over his lips like he can pull the words from his mouth. “Like here, there could be something-” he nods to Namjoon’s book “- but there’s still something I need to add or change. The vibe drops, something is empty, but everything I add feels like too much.”

Namjoon listens as Yoongi plays the piece over again, mouthing lyrics from his notebook as he goes. Wow, he seriously can’t stop talking. He pauses, eyebrows furrowing during a long stretch.

“Yeah, the gap seems to fit,” Namjoon wonders aloud, “but like… maybe it’s not an instrument or sound you need here.”

Yoongi nods. “I can’t find a flow to fit with it without it feeling overpowering.”

“No, like,” Namjoon drops his book, hands gesticulating. “Like a voice.”

“A voice? Like singing?”

“Yeah, have you asked Jungkook about it?” Namjoon asks, picking up his phone.

Yoongi blinks. “Why?”

Namjoon’s fingers pause over his screen. When he looks up, Yoongi’s nerves flare. Namjoon’s absolutely exasperated, bordering on mad. What’s new.

“You don’t know Jungkook sometimes does my demo tracks?”

Yoongi just knows he looks dumbfounded. He knew Jungkook could sing from the ridiculous nights at Karaoke, the day that he finally confessed, fuck now he looks dumbfounded and squirmy.

“No,” Yoongi says when Namjoon doesn’t continue. He tries to change the subject. “Is he coming in today to help?”

Big fucking mistake apparently. Namjoon presses the bridge of his nose, breathing in deep before a deadly, poisonous gaze pierces into Yoongi. “You don’t even know he’s out with Hope right now?”

Yoongi swallows, pissed at how this weird asshole’s rage makes him want to back down. “He told me he was busy.”

“You didn’t ask him what he was up to?”

“No, I--”

“Because you don’t care?”

Yoongi’s heart hurts a bit at that. “No, I fucking-”

“What _do_ you know about Jungkook?”

Yoongi lifts his hat to run his fingers through his already-fading green hair. He groans. “Dude.”

“You sure you’re even a good fit?” Namjoon persists, propping up on Yoongi’s desk to interrogate him.

Yoongi’s throat feels like it’s closing shut. Shit. That’s… that’s the nail on the head right there.

Yoongi licks his lips, grimacing. He’s not having this heart to heart with Namjoonie-fucking-hyung. He wishes Jin was here. That would be even weirder. Shit, what is Yoongi doing? “I honestly don’t know.”

“So you jumped in without really knowing him?”

“Give me a fucking break,” Yoongi groans. He’s really been trying, dammit. He doesn’t need this pretty boy rap star throwing it in his face.

“Wow,” Namjoon sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. Yoongi wants to cower and punch him at the same time. Because he can’t punch his own inner thoughts, and punching this asshole might help.

He stands before Yoongi can decide, and Yoongi just stares at him, jaw dropped. Just smacks down all that shit and he’s going to leave. Namjoon pauses in the doorframe. “Jungkook may be quiet, but he likes to talk.”

 _He talks about you a lot_ , Yoongi remembers Hope’s words. Yoongi doesn’t talk much. He never talks. And because of that, he’s closing off Jungkook. They don’t really talk. They… fuck around with their thoughts and words and hold hands and act like teenagers. Or maybe it’s just Yoongi being that way. He doesn’t know what Jungkook’s thinking.

Namjoon’s right. What does he know about him? He likes photos and banana milk? Yoongi doesn’t know much about Jungkook. And he guesses that’s his own fucking fault. He said wants them to be themselves, but themselves is pretty awkward. 

Is it just that they are awkward together? Is it gonna fade? Is Yoongi even doing this right? Jungkook likes to talk but they’re barely doing that. He keeps sending Yoongi those weird glances. Is he unhappy? Why won’t he tell Yoongi? Can he not talk to him?

Yoongi flops back on the couch, pulling his hat over his eyes. Like he can’t see his thoughts if he can’t see the world. “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 had to be split in two, so expect chapter 8 soon!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two idiots are horny and in their feels so why not combine both

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing just keeps getting longer, you guys. There is NSFW STUFF IN HERE

Yoongi flicks the lighter and inhales deep, tapping his thumb over the hole at the end of the bowl. He feels his own breath suck against his skin on the other end.

_What do you know about Jungkook?_

He exhales with eyes closed, holding the bowl out for Jimin.

_Don’t make decisions based on fear._

Yoongi’s brow crinkles in distaste, bringing the bowl back to take another hit to fog up his thoughts.

_Hope and Possibilities and do you even care?_

Yoongi groans, the smoke catching in his throat causing him to hack. Fine, he can hack all these thoughts out. The voices of his own mind and all those around him, trying to control or ruin or run or fuckin whatever else with his relationship.

Yoongi couldn’t stop thinking about it now. Being a boyfriend. How to do it, how he isn’t doing it. How to fix it. The thoughts had started to consume him, leaving him staring at the ceiling, trying to think of good enough responses to Jungkook’s texts and feeling like he’s falling short each time. Somehow. He’s not even sure how. But he thinks he is. And Yoongi’s pretty intuitive.

So he probably is.

And here he is again, trying to figure all this out next to his boyfriend on Jimin and Taehyung’s couch. He hadn’t physically talked to anyone for 3 days. Besides Jungkook’s texts, because nothing helps being a shit boyfriend quite like ignoring your boyfriend. He’d gone to the studio late at night when Namjoon was home meditating or walking through a forest or some shit. He couldn’t confront Namjoon when he was clearly so right.

But Jungkook wanted to hang out. So here he is. Desperately torn between mauling his boyfriend in a fucking ironic button-up covered in motorcycles or apologizing for what a shit boyfriend he is. Yoongi’s hands are itching for skin he just learned to touch and his mouth is clamped shut on his notoriously loose tongue.

He stares off into the distance, party balloons swaying in the smoke-filled air from when they had the housewarming party months ago. The party where he and Jungkook first formally met. Which he now knows wasn’t the first time Jungkook had tried to speak to him, that he’d been waiting for that moment while Yoongi was trying to control his sanity.

He feels his sanity evening out now, fogging over and being replaced with a false sense of calm. He doesn’t even notice Jimin getting up to go check Taehyung’s room for something he... can’t remember. Yoongi inhales deep. His chest finally feels lighter after days.

“I wanted to kiss you on this couch,” Jungkook muses once Jimin heads out, leaving the two alone in the living room. Yoongi lifts his head from where it rests in his palm, raising lazy eyebrows. Jungkook’s palm is splayed over the sofa’s fabric, rubbing circles over and over again. Shit, this couch does feel kinda great. Jungkook’s so smart. “That night.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi asks, throat dry from the weed. He wanted to, too. He definitely did. So much that he jerked off to just the thought of Jungkook’s fingers on a camera lens. And that wasn’t the last time. Shit, shit, focus. “Me, too, I think.”

“Really?” Jungkook turns, arm sliding across the bottom of the couch, slinking behind Yoongi so he’s close, so close. It’s both soothing and intoxicating, much in the same way as the THC slowing the blood in his veins. Even a little red, Jungkook’s brown eyes peer into his and practically sparkle. His lips look as dry as Yoongi’s. They haven’t kissed while they’re stoned. It probably feels amazing, the sensory would drive Yoongi up the wall.

Jungkook’s fingers touch Yoongi’s cheek. Yoongi almost jolts forward into him, needing it, defenses down as soon as the rough edges of Jungkook’s fingernails trace under his eye.

“I like your…” Jungkook’s train of thought disappears. He starts giggling, the breath washing over Yoongi’s face, unable to finish his sentence, “your mouth?”

“My… mouth?” Yoongi asks, feeling said mouth twist in a pout. Jungkook giggles harder.

“It’s like a secret,” Jungkook gets out, head leaning on Yoongi’s to support his awkward position. Yoongi nudges his nose against Jungkook’s, trying to get him to focus. Jungkook giggles more, nudging his nose back. So close, his eyes look like a bunch of black lines, crinkled with joy. Shit, it’s so much cuter when he does it. “Like… your normal mouth.”

Yoongi almost moans when Jungkook’s finger traces over his top lip. “Nope, no smile. Doesn’t look like a smile mouth.”

Yoongi pouts more. He can smile.

“But then, but then,” Jungkook tries to stop from giggling again. “It goes bah!” Jungkook’s finger drags the edge of Yoongi’s mouth up the side of his face. “Smile! Surprise! I love surprises. The smile, it’s so…”

Jungkook keeps laughing. His nose nudges Yoongi’s again, and it’s so fucking cute. The finger tugging on his cheek releases so Jungkook can cup Yoongi’s cheek, scooting closer. The shift makes the sofa rock like a boat, and Yoongi reaches out to Jungkook in case he, he doesn’t know, falls into the carpet-ocean.

Wait.

He needs to get to know Jungkook. He’s gotta do better. Jungkook just waxed weird poetic about his mouth. He’s gotta think of something.

“Um, so you sing, right?”

Jungkook pauses, lips hovering before Yoongi’s. Shit, why did he stop him again? Jungkook adjusts, and Yoongi can feel each thread of his raggedy shirt rub against his back on the way down. Heavy lids rise as Jungkook looks at him. The joy is gone, that unabashed urge swirling in his dark pupils with the Christmas lights. “Um, yeah, you heard me already.”

“Could you sing for me?” Yoongi asks, trying really, really hard to have a conversation while he’s stoned out of his mind and Jungkook’s wavy hair blocks his peripheral vision. It’s easier, so much easier to just touch. Oh, his hand's on Jungkook’s thigh. Shit, he just squeezed it. Damn, it felt good.

Jungkook blushes, turning away. His cheeks dust the same pink as his eyes. Cute. “Hyung… I can’t just…”

“Oh,” Yoongi remembers the rest of his sentence now that he isn’t watching the Christmas lights twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes. “I mean on a track.”

Jungkook’s bashfulness turns to excitement. “A track?”

Yoongi nods. God, he can feel the indent of his quad flexed to lean even farther into Yoongi. He wants to brush noses again. He can. Why isn’t he? Maybe it’s the fogged brain. He’s being an idiot, but his frustration comes out as giggles. Jungkook’s excitement darkens immediately and goes for it right as Yoongi tries to speak again.

His lips are dry. It’s a weird kiss. Yoongi feels on fire from the contact, Jungkook’s hand drawing him closer and his lips soft against his. But his mouth feels slow, his tongue like sandpaper. Like they are in the desert. Yoongi’s mind feels like it’s filled with sand. Sand and a hundred thoughts he has to put in order in a green haze. Oh, that’s the edge of Jungkook’s hair twisting in his fingers.

Oh, talking.

“We should talk,” Yoongi breathes against Jungkook’s mouth, the words feeling much wetter in his mouth than the kiss.

“Is something wrong?” Jungkook asks, too lost to stop kissing Yoongi’s lips, hands traveling down Yoongi’s back.

“No, um, like,” his lips continue to trade place with Jungkook’s as he feels his body shifting, head on the armrest as Jungkook moves to hover over him. It’s like a ride. Jungkook’s a ride, a fucking rollercoaster. Yoongi wants him closer, to roll his hips against Jungkook as he presses him into the couch.

“I want to get to know you,” Yoongi says, impressed at his ability to keep up the talking thing. While his dick tells him to shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up yourself, dick. He can have a real conversation with Jungkook while he’s… fucking caging him in on the softest fucking couch, blocking all his senses.. Fuck, this couch is comfortable.

Jungkook makes the cutest sound. Like a snort and a giggle clogging in his throat. Yoongi can’t help but smile a bit, eyes almost closed with lust and sleep. Jungkook nips his lip and rubs their noses together as he lowers to his elbows. The couch heaves under the weight, and Yoongi feels like he might fall through the cushions. Don’t fucking grind into him. “I bet we can do both.”

Woah, Yoongi’s dick just filled out so fast. And shit, he did it. His body betrayed his mind. This Jungkook is still a lot to handle. The overwhelming confidence that comes with his libido. Yoongi feels like his arms are falling asleep, so he places them on Jungkook’s shoulders. Bad idea. They feel so nice. He slides over the curve of Jungkook’s collarbones, to his throat, fingers playing with the end of Jungkook’s hair again. A shudder rocks through Jungkook’s body at Yoongi’s soft touches. It vibrates through the tiny couch like Jungkook’s excitement literally rocked through them.

Jungkook’s hair blocks half his face, his cute cheeks rounded out as he looks down at Yoongi. It’s so warm, like Jungkook’s body and arms by his head are a space heater. He tries to push Jungkook’s hair back behind his ear, but it falls back. 

Oh yeah. Talking.

“You should cut your hair.”

Jungkook shakes his head. His pout looks too intense from this angle. “I’m never cutting it if it means you’ll do that again.”

Yoongi laughs. It’s quiet, his throat catching the sound. Jungkook whines, biting his lip. Yoongi tries to stop his chuckling, running his fingers through Jungkook’s hair over and over again to get the hair off his face, but it keeps falling back. Dumb. Jungkook starts groaning as Yoongi drags frustrated fingers over his locks, eyebrows furrowed as Yoongi keeps on doing it. But he can’t stop. His hair’s so fluffy, feels so smooth between his fingers, looks so silly when it keeps falling in his face.

“Stop, that feels so good,” he groans.

“You’re so good,” Yoongi teases, scratching his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. Okay, that was easy. Compliments are easy. That’s good. Jungkook deserves compliments. Jungkook collapses between Yoongi’s legs, shivering and moaning. God, it’s so heavy, so warm, like a weighted blanket. Jungkook’s a big boyfriend blanket. Yoongi laughs again, watching how the little puffs ruffle Jungkook’s hair.

“That’s amazinnnnng,” He draws out, burying his face into Yoongi’s shoulder. Jungkook shuffles his weight a bit, and wet lips press to Yoongi’s neck. It catches him off guard, legs squeezing around Jungkook’s waist. Jungkook just kisses him harder in response. Yoongi can’t help it. His ass sinks into the couch when his back arches, taking Jungkook with him. Wow, that feels… fucking amazing. Yoongi closes his eyes as Jungkook’s strong hands grip his ribs, holding Yoongi closer even though he’s crushing him. Comfortably crushing. Fuck, that feels amazing.

“This is not what I expected to come back to,” Jimin says. Yoongi’s hands freeze and Jungkook whines. Jimin stands behind the edge of the couch, dressed for work. There’s an uncomfortable smile on his face. Or maybe it makes Yoongi feel uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” Yoongi says after clearing his throat. He can’t stop laughing though, the bubbles filling his chest and bursting out under the pressure of Jungkook. Wondering what this looks like from Jimin’s perspective, his head poking out with Jungkook flopped on top. The Boyfriend Blanket. He laughs again and Jungkook grunts.

“He doesn’t matter, keep going,” Jungkook whines, reaching around to rub Yoongi’s fingers back and forth over his head. The shift on the couch brings something else to Yoongi’s immediate attention.

Something firm and a little heavy around Jungkook’s waist. Holy fucking shit. Yoongi’s breath stops. Wow. Wow. Jungkook shuffles again and Yoongi’s dumbass brain finally sounds the alarm that they are grinding. Grinding. Stupid teenage brain needing a second to remember that’s a cock against his thigh. And Yoongi was… grinding back. His legs are squeezed around Jungkook’s waist.

And Jimin is watching them like this. That’s the weird smile. Wow, that was incredibly sobering. High over.

“Rude, no fucking on my couch if I don’t matter,” Jimin tuts, barely audible through Yoongi’s horny panic. Jimin kicks the edge of the couch and Yoongi goes rigid.

Jungkook lifts himself up, cheeks red from being pressed into the cushions, hair wild from the scratching. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, the red blossoms across his neck when he sees the look on Yoongi’s face, which must say, “Woah, that’s your dick.”

Jungkook rolls back, sitting straight on the couch again, looking straight ahead, and placing his hands over his lap. Yoongi struggles to sit up, immediately cold from the lack of a boyfriend blanket. Did he really think that? Damn, that’s some good fucking weed. Jimin just stays there, arms crossed, enjoying their awkwardness. Asshole.

“I, um,” Yoongi tries to get off the couch, but his body feels so heavy. With horniness and drugs. “I brought you banana milk. I’ll get it when I can feel my legs again”

Jungkook and Jimin both look at Yoongi. Yoongi stares at the fridge, trying to get his cheeks to stop burning. It’s the best thing he could think of to do. Or something. His legs are probably fine. There’s something else that isn’t working right now. Or everything. Everything isn’t working. Code red Yoongi.

“I want to kiss you again,” Jungkook says. Yoongi’s head whips around so fast a haze of green fringe fills his vision. Is there something higher than code red?

Jungkook clamps a hand over his mouth, but the giggles still erupt behind his grip. Jimin rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, walking to the door. “Come on, get your milk and get out of my house, love birds.”

Yoongi shakes his hair over his eyes, the world as green as the bowl of weed in front of him, a little embarrassed but not enough to apologize. On shaky legs, he grabs the banana milk from the refrigerator and hands it to Jungkook by the door. They walk out the door in silence, shoulders brushing as they head down the stairs.

Yoongi pauses on a step. He’s just kind of assuming Jungkook wants to keep hanging out. He does, probably, but is that rude to just kind of… assume? Should he ask?

Jungkook turns on the last step, looking deadly with how that stupid motorcycle shirt tucks into his black jeans. “You coming?”

Yoongi exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He nods, catching up.

“Did I tell you I like banana milk?” Jungkook asks, happily sipping the concoction as he holds Yoongi’s hand. They head towards the parking lot of the pharmacy by Jimin’s, since you have to pay for parking at their complex. The bike must be there. Yoongi’s heart jumps a bit at the thought of riding the bike with Jungkook again.

Yoongi scratches his cheek, shrugging absently. “You had a shit ton of it one day, so I assumed you liked it.”

“I did?” Jungkook ponders, so Yoongi nods. “And you remembered?”

Yoongi nods again.

Jungkook’s grip on Yoongi’s hand is suddenly painful. Yoongi wouldn’t dare let go, so he shoves at Jungkook’s shoulder. “Dude, ow.”

Jungkook coughs, also refusing to let go and covering his mouth with the same hand sloshing banana milk onto the ground. After he gets his choking under control, he chews on his lip. “Hyung, that’s creepy romantic.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “It’s creepy to say you stared at my photo for a few hours yesterday. It’s not creepy to remember your favorite things. I barely know anything about you, so…”

Yoongi trails off. Not sure where to go. That same odd sensation of guilt and anxiety creeps back into his mind. Jungkook hums, oblivious while he chews on his straw. “Do you want me to tell you?”

Yoongi scoffs. Yes. He does. But that feels like cheating. He’s supposed to get to know him. To be good at this. “It’s not a survey.”

“Then how are you going to know?”

“I don’t know!” Yoongi groans, because that’s the real issue here. God, he just… he can’t do this right. He stops, running a hand through his hair. “Ah, we’re making this too hard.”

Jungkook tilts his head, lips parting in confusion.“We are?”

“I mean,” Yoongi sighs, shaking his hair in his face like it can defend him from his guilt. “I mean I am. I’m making it hard. I just… can’t be enough.”

Jungkook steps forward, their raggedy converses touching on the cracked pavement. He takes a shuddering breath, then murmurs, “I don’t need any more than this.”

“But…” Yoongi leans his head onto Jungkook’s chest, not able to look at the concern in his eyes. He needs to touch him. To feel him not pull away. He both wants him so much but thinks he shouldn’t deserve this at all. “I feel like we know nothing about each other.”

He feels Jungkook shrug. “I mean, I know you. I listen to your music a lot.”

“That’s cheating,” Yoongi whines. “How can I get to know you?”

“Well, I took you to the gym…” Jungkook says quietly like he doesn’t want to admit that Yoongi clearly shot down Jungkook’s attempt at getting to know each other. Ugh, fuck.

That’s fine, Yoongi’s mind derails into the root of all his concerns as he stares down at the perfect, long legs of this guy who somehow is infatuated with him. For now. “Yeah, but what if you get to know me or you’re better at this than me and-”

“Hyung!” Jungkook somewhat shouts. Yoongi stops, mouth still hanging open to keep panicking. Jungkook takes his shoulders, pulling Yoongi away from him but holding him so, so tight. Yoongi’s shoulders might crunch into his spines. Jungkook’s eyebrows are furrowed, something like panic and concern. Shit, Yoongi upset him.

“Well, why don’t you be you and we’ll see, like you said,” Jungkook tries. Yoongi curls his lip. He did say that. To be themselves, but… “I li-like this you.”

. “That’s fucking scary, Kook. I’m not that great,” Yoongi reaches up to wrap his hands around Jungkook’s arms, feeling grounded but also trying to explain something. How he needs this and isn’t sure if he should have it. “If I have you, right here, sometimes I can… I can believe you. But the second you leave, I’m worried you’re going to be gone. That somehow you’ll realize I’m trash. When you’re here, I’m so fucking tongue-tied I can’t even speak. Like a double-edged sword.”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly, his eyes getting a bit glossy. “I don’t see it. I don’t want that.”

Yoongi gives a sad chuckle. “But I’m doing that. And I’m scared I’mma fuck shit up every time I open my mouth. Boyfriend is scary.”

“But I’m just Jungkook,” Jungkook says with a sniffle. Yoongi can’t look him in the eyes, but when he looks away, the crushing grip on his shoulders tightens.

“That’s scarier,” Yoongi mumbles. “You’re fucking amazing, Kook.”

“I’m not apologizing for that,” Jungkook says with a surprising amount of aggression. “It’s scarier not knowing who you are and not knowing what to do. I want you. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Yoongi huffs, running a hand over his face. “I’m older, I should be telling you this shit. You shouldn’t feel like you gotta prove something because I’m being dumb.”

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head firmly, sounding annoyed. “I’m going to do it, and you can’t stop me. Cause I’m, I don’t know, I don’t lose.”

Yoongi can’t help but bark a laugh at that. Jungkook smiles a bit, tentatively sliding down toYoongi’s waist. He chews on his lip, eyebrows permanently tucked together. Yoongi stares at the clouds as they pass slowly over their worrying heads. You know what, they’re a lot like those fucking clouds. Just kind of slowly passing along, a breeze here or there bending and pulling them together. Clouds don’t just up and move to another state. They don’t feel a need to move the storm along any faster. So what’s wrong with his and Jungkook’s pace?

Jungkook’s boring a hole through Yoongi’s face like he’s out of words and just hoping his feelings will be conveyed. Yoongi knows. Yoongi knows he’s being dumb… a little bit. But now Jungkook knows. And that’s a bit better. They are learning things about each other.

“Okay… We’ll just, you know, let things happen,” Yoongi mumbles when Jungkook says nothing, trying to make some kind of decision as the bigger person.

“Do you want things to happen?”

That takes Yoongi off guard. “I mean, yeah?”

“No, like,” it’s not warm enough for the heat in Jungkook’s cheeks. “Things.”

Yoongi tilts his head, wondering if he squints he can see Jungkook’s thoughts like Jungkook tried. Apparently it’s his turn to confess something he’s worrying about.

“Like… boyfriend things. Like, um,” Jungkook’s voice squeaks. “Like on the couch, I know you could feel--”

“Oh, oh,” Yoongi blabbers out, staring up at the clouds again to avoid staring down at the topic of conversation. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook tongues at his cheek, suddenly annoyed. It’s kind of hot. “Every time I try to do things, you pull away!”

“Because I’m nervous!” Yoongi groans, trying to look just as annoyed. Which isn’t hard.

“Why would you be nervous?” Jungkook says, voice raised like a child both scared and annoyed.

“What was I just saying, dude? You’re hot as shit!” Yoongi says, pressing an accusatory finger to Jungkook’s gorgeous figure before him, looking even better in the sunshine. “And we’re in public! It’s a lot to fucking handle!”

“I just,” Jungkook takes a shaky breath. He blinks, and Yoongi’s terrified he’s gonna cry. He’s not built to handle crying. “I want you all the time. All the time. Like… in every way. I want to touch you. I wanna… do stuff. I _do_ like you. A lot a lot. Don’t worry about that. But you don’t push it, so I don’t want to push it, so I just, I don’t know, I guess I should have said something.”

The smallest sound escapes Jungkook’s throat as Yoongi pulls him closer, hands on his back to show him he wants him there. It feels odd. Probably because Jungkook is always reaching for him, never the other way around. Shit, he’s not doing this well.

But he will. He wants to. For Jungkook.

Yoongi tries to smile but he knows it probably looks weird. “No, I should have said something.”

“You should have,” Jungkook says with a nod. Yoongi’s jaw drops.

“Seriously?” Yoongi scolds.

Jungkook shrugs, trying to bite back his smile. Yoongi scrunches his nose in distaste and Jungkook just laughs. Yoongi laughs, too, head on Jungkook’s shaking chest again.

A car whizzes by on the road and Jungkook grabs onto Yoongi as he tries to tear away. “Then don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Yoongi blushes, looking up. He knows he pulls away, gets startled that someone will see him. Feels so exposed, so vulnerable to let people know that he likes something. He needs to say something though, Jungkook still looking concerned, eyes still a little watery. “I like this.”

“Like what?”

“Here,” Yoongi pats his arms wrapped around Jungkook and tries to shrug nonchalantly. It’s not so nonchalant. “This makes me feel… warm.”

He hopes Jungkook will understand. The word that always comes to mind when he thinks of Jungkook. How he feels when he’s near, regardless of if his thoughts short circuit or not.

Yoongi feels Jungkook watching him even though he can’t look him in the eye as he admits it. Jungkook takes a step forward. Yoongi tries to adjust but Jungkook grabs him tighter. He takes another step. They walk down the sidewalk pressed up to each other’s chests.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi groans, almost tripping but held up by Jungkook’s grip.

“Keeping you warm,” Jungkook says, laughing as Yoongi almost trips again. He tries to break free, but Jungkook keeps laughs. These dumb jolty giggles with his shoulders up to his ears. He gives Yoongi a big smile, eyes almost crinkled closed. Thank god, at least he has a double chin when he tucks his head in like that. “Never gonna let go. Cause I don’t want to. I wanna hug you all day. Because you’re Yoongi.”

Butterflies pelt the walls of Yoongi’s stomach. He nods slowly as Jungkook waltzes down the sidewalk with Yoongi in a bear hug. He’s fucking exhausted. Feelings are exhausting. But Jungkook, with his laughs and stumbling steps, trying to sip his drink while still holding Yoongi, refreshes him in ways he’s gonna have to admit he doesn’t want to ever lose.

* * *

At the end of the week, the gang heads to their usual bar. It became the thing to do after Jungkook’s birthday. Everyone had Sunday evenings off, and Jin’s alcohol tolerance is so mind-blowing that he can drink as much as the others and still get to work the next day.

Even though he knew the others already arrived, Yoongi waits, just to see Jungkook walking up the street, standing out from the crowd as always. He’s got on some heavy-duty jacket and baggy black cargos, a little out of season but still looking trendy, goddammit.

“Hi,” Jungkook calls before he’s close enough, jogging the rest of the way. Yoongi smiles. Jungkook picks up pace, crashing into Yoongi with a bearhug. It takes Yoongi by surprise. He doesn’t want to admit how much he likes it as a couple who was trying to get through the door segues from the barreling Jungkook. He pats Jungkook’s back, not even sure if he can feel it through the puffy coat.

“I missed you,” Jungkook says. He’s been taking the “letting Yoongi knows he’s here” thing very seriously. And Yoongi begrudgingly loves it.

“I…” Yoongi panics for a split second then takes a calming breath. “I did, too.”

Yoongi holds the door open for Jungkook who gleefully steps inside the smoky bar, heading back to the gang’s regular table. Jimin and Taehyung wave frantically, acting like idiots as they coo over him and Jungkook. As soon as they sit, Jungkook slides a hand over Yoongi’s thigh. He keeps doing it. Ever since Yoongi admitted how clingy he is. And Yoongi can't deal with getting what he wants because his brain hates him like that, But Jungkook gives him a knowing look before Yoongi can grumble about the PDA. That’s all it takes to stop Yoongi because he’s too caught up in Jungkook’s fingers brushing the inseam of his jeans.

“Where’s Hope?” Yoongi asks, knowing he finished the shift with them.

“Hiding in the car with Jin,” Jimin says, sliding over two beers.

“Hiding in the car…?” Yoongi inquires, but Taehyung waves him off.

“We have something important to tell you two,” Jimin says, folding his hands in front of him. Jungkook’s beer stops halfway to his lips, eyes squinting at the two.

“I want to remind you both that I can bench your bodyweight combined,” Jungkook threatens. It’s hot, and now Yoongi knows it’s true, from another even hotter situation. Fuck, he’s getting hard in the bar.

“It’s nothing like that. It’s a family matter,” Taehyung says, jaw set to emphasize his seriousness. If he wasn’t such a fucking airhead, he’d actually look pretty domineering right now. But he’s wearing a rainbow checkered shirt and a barret so how the fuck is Yoongi to take him seriously? “So, we want you to know we love both of you very much.”

“So much,” Jimin chimes in. Yoongi sighs, willing to put up with this as long as Jungkook’s at his side.

“It’s best to establish this before anything actually happens,” Taehyung continues. “Clearly, Jin will take Jungkook’s side, and Hobi-hyung will take yours. So, in the case of a fight, Jimin and I have decided which side we will take.”

Yoongi cocks an eyebrow. Jungkook, who made the mistake of drinking during this announcement, splutters his beer. The grip on Yoongi’s thigh tightens and he squirms, but Jungkook refuses to let go as he sets his beer down to wipe at his beer-soaked chin.

“Even though Jungkook is one of my best buddies, I have roots with Yoongi. And Jimin and Yoongi fight too much anyway,” Taehyung says, Jimin nodding solemnly next to him. “I hope you both can understand our decision.”

Yoongi sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “We’ve barely been dating and you’re already plotting our demise?”

“It’s preemptive,” Jimin says, then tacks on, “And it will most likely be your fault if you do fight…”

Yoongi opens his mouth to argue, but Jungkook squeezes his thigh. He bites his cheek to avoid whimpering as he whips around to Jungkook, whose puppy-dog eyes are pleading. “Hyung, I’ll give you whatever you want in the divorce.”

“Are you getting married?” Taehyung squeals, slapping at Jimin’s shoulder. Yoongi’s mind whirls, suddenly filled with domestic bullshit he never knew he wanted. But instead of going along with it, he kicks at Taehyung’s shins under the table.

“Married?” Hope’s booming voice sounds from nearby, drowning out Taehyung’s yelp. Yoongi relaxes as his best friend slides into the table and throws an arm around him. It’s been five minutes and he’s mentally drained between Hope’s arm on his back, Jungkook’s on his thigh, and the prattling of the two knuckleheads. Seokjin slides in next to them, immediately eyeing the angle of his brother’s arm and rolling his eyes. He calls for two more beers.

“Hiding in a car?” Yoongi whispers to Hope as the boys continue chattering. Hope sends him his usual smile, but his eyes are tight, not curved with the joy he’s trying to emanate.

“Just saw some old friends,” Hope shrugs, smiling over at Taehyung who’s trying to tune in.

“We’re your only friends,” Yoongi teases, but he wants to press further, feels his heart rate pick up. The boys, however, are trying to pull them back into the conversation.

“Today, Jinnie found out why Hope has such a cute nickname,” Jimin teases.

“What?” Jungkook bends around Yoongi to look at Hope. His hand slides down his knee, tickling Yoongi who accidentally knocks his leg into the bar table. The other boys stare at the table which just rocked, but Yoongi casually picks up his beer and stares into the distance. “Your name isn’t Hope?”

Hope chuckles, regaining his usual airs. He slaps Yoongi on the back even though Jungkook asked the question. “Of course not.”

Jungkook’s cheeks pinken. “I mean you never know.”

“But _did_ you know,” Jimin leans forward, head in his hands. “He’s undercover right now. He used to have quite the reputation.”

“What?” Jungkook exclaims, hands on the table to bend more in Hope’s direction. Yoongi frowns, his leg immediately cooler. Damn, he’s clingy.

Hope groans halfheartedly, shaking his head. His mouth dips in a frown as he waves them off. “Please, I just had a good business and shut it down to appease the powers that be.”

“Yeah, you think he’s got good shit now,” Taehyung muses, cupping his mouth but not speaking any quieter, “you should have seen the shit he was packing before. Let me tell you, it was that good good from-”

“Taehyung,” Hope interrupts, expression schooled in a small smile. But the assertive tone of his voice cuts through the clatter of the restaurant, just like the sharp point of his gaze on Taehyung, whose eyes flip from excited to apologetic, cowering back into his seat with a quiet _sorry._ Jungkook’s head is swiveling between Taehyung and Hope, who claps his hands and declares, “Right! Let’s order chicken!”

Seokjin cheers while Jimin consoles Taehyung. Yoongi turns to Jungkook, but he’s still watching Hope.

“That was scary,” Jungkook whispers, fingers tugging on Yoongi’s shirt like he somehow needs to get Yoongi’s attention. Yoongi shrugs, a glance at Taehyung tells him he’s already reconciled and singing a song about spicy chicken.

“Hope can be scary. That’s why he’s a good manager,” Yoongi shrugs again, but there’s a smile on his lips as he sips at the foam of his beer. It’s fun to see the cooler side of Hope, rare as it is now. But he’s nervous, too. Hope hiding in a car wasn’t a good sign of who he might have seen. Who might be back, looking for him.

“Baby brother,” Jin starts, standing from his seat with a fist forward. “How many chicken wings can you eat?”

Jungkook immediately stands, locking his forearm with Jin’s. “Depends. What is more than you?”

And just like that, the night erupts into an evening of drunken cheers, full bellies, and genuine laughter. Yoongi can finally feel comfortable sitting between Jungkook and Hope. He isn’t worrying about who is liking who, or what he should or shouldn’t do. Jungkook’s hand keeps wandering to his thigh, and Hope keeps feeding him french fries to make sure he eats.

And if his head lazily tips onto Jungkook’s shoulder at the end of the night, he has no reason to snap it back up. Even when Jimin snaps a photo with a giddy squeal, Yoongi blushes as Jungkook blocks his face with a pint of beer. He smiles as he hears Jungkook chide Jimin, not reaching across for the phone in case it risks Yoongi moving off his shoulder.

Yoongi almost drifts off before Hope’s drum rolling on the table startles him awake. “Dundundundun, the total for tonight’s chicken competition is… 47 to 52!”

Seokjin stands, arms wide, beckoning the praise of all at the table. Taehyung and Jimin stand to raise Seokjin’s arms higher, like referees congratulating a wrestler. Jungkook slouches, throwing up his hands in defeat. Yoongi looks at the hands outstretched before him. Strong enough to lift him in the air, soft enough to comfort his worries. He takes one in his own. Jungkook’s fingers curl between his. Yoongi smiles, rubbing his face into Jungkook’s shoulder as their intertwined hands fall to the table.

The very quiet table.

“Yah!” Seokjin suddenly accuses. Yoongi opens his eyes when no one answers. He’s talking to him between Jimin and Taehyung who are practically vibrating. “Don’t steal my thunder by being cutesy with my little brother, punk!”

“Bet Namjoon would love to see that,” Hope snickers.

Taehyung drops Jin’s hand. “Namjoon what?”

Hope laughs, poking incessantly at Yoongi’s shoulder as he speaks. “Namjoon is their number one fan.”

The other three sit. Yoongi frowns. “Fan? He’s an asshole. Always being fucking weird about me and Jungkook.”

“He is?” Jungkook asks. Yoongi grumbles affirmatively, annoyed that Jungkook didn’t think his distaste for Namjoon had any real basis.

Taehyung seems to mull this over. “I guess Joonie’s canceled.”

Jin breaks out into guffaws. “Oh god, oh no.”

Jungkook pouts a bit. Wow, Yoongi wants to kiss that pout. “But I like Namjoon.”

“Yes,” Taehyung says rather matter-of-factly, crossing his arms. “But I swore to take Yoongi’s side.”

“It’s okay,” Jimin cooes, reaching over to pinch Jungkook’s cheek. Oh shit, that’s a great idea. Yoongi should do that sometime. “I’ll like Joonie with you.”

Taehyung and Jungkook turn to look at Jin who just keeps laughing. Yoongi cocks his head, lip curled in slurred confusion as he bows his head a few times, but he can’t stop smiling as Jungkook’s thumb strokes the back of his hand.

By the time they leave the restaurant, everyone’s holding onto someone. It’s nice, all equal pairs. But it still feels like something’s missing now. An annoying part of Yoongi’s life that he’s started to grow used to, even if he’s a weird asshole.

Yoongi swings his heavy head up in Jungkook’s direction. “Namjoon.”

Jungkook peers down at him, rubbing an arm up and down Yoongi’s shoulder like they're both cold or something. “Huh?”

“We should invite Namjoon. He’s probably doing dumb shit with money people,” Yoongi grumbles, a little jealous.

Jungkook chuckles, nodding and almost falling over with the weight of his nod.”Thought he was canceled.”

“Yeah, he is. But, I can prove to him how fucking great I am,” Yoongi continues, then snaps his jaw shut. Not that he needs to. Because it’s just him and Jungkook.

Not twenty yards down the road, they all stop in a convenience store to chug water and eat the rest of the fried chicken in the express box. Because apparently over 200 chicken wings weren’t good enough before. Jimin and Taehyung buy dried squid, so once they leave the store, Jungkook abandons Yoongi to trail after them, stealing every stick he can. He steals the bag, taunting the other two like a little kid as he runs into the road to avoid their swings.

“Kook!” Both Jin and Yoongi scold him for running into the road dressed in all black. They turn to each other, both surprised to hear the other. Then, Jin holds his fist out.

“Nice,” he says. Yoongi doesn’t fist bump him like a dork, but he does hang back with Seokjin who’s struggling with his bloated stomach.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, nudging Jin.

“Hey back,” Jin says, smiling down.

“You not mad?” Yoongi asks, hoping Jin knows he means about how he’s so fucking in love with his little brother that he can’t contain himself.

Jin purses his lips and shakes his head. Damn, he doesn’t even stumble. He’s got a liver of steel. “Not mad. You’re the mean, green machine around here.”

“If you’re not mad, Namjoon can’t always be mad,” Yoongi says, then scrunches his nose. “He’s super weird. Wants me to like… I don’t know, fuck Jungkook in front of him.”

Jin laughs, a hearty, barking laugh. He grabs onto Yoongi who almost swings into the road. He’s a little pissed that he’s somehow drunker than Jin for once. “Namjoon just cares about him.”

“But I care about him, too,” Yoongi retorts, shoving his hands in his pockets. He watches Hope swing around a light post with the snack bag until Jungkook and Jimin chase after him. 

“Hmm,” Jin rubs his chin, staring at the blank night sky, “If I’d be considered Jungkook’s dad, then Namjoon would be his mom.”

“He said something similar,” Yoongi remembers.

“Namjoon and his family helped us out a lot. He’s probably been as big a part in raising Jungkook as I was. He’s seen Jungkook get hurt a lot because he’s a sensitive kid. He has a big heart, Yoongi. But Hope says you do, too.”

Yoongi’s cheeks burn as he tries to focus on one foot in front of the other. Jin’s eyes sparkle from the streetlights despite looking up at a starless night sky. It’s something he sees in Jungkook, too. A kind of hope, an earnestness for what’s to come no matter what’s happening now. They’re a lot alike, always together, only mentioning each other. The thoughts catch in his brain, wandering to connect dots.

“Raising Jungkook…” Yoongi repeats the words before he can stop himself. 

“Yeah, just us two. And Namjoon.” He pauses, and Yoongi turns around. Jin’s watching all of you meander down the street. 

“I’m going to tell you this, because I don’t think you should ask Jungkook,” Seokjin suddenly says, like he knew why Yoongi repeated the phrase. “It’s just us. And sometimes Jungkook… he thinks that’s his fault. So making people happy, because of him, that’s really important to him. Namjoon wants what’s best for him, in his own weird way. He knows Jungkook will do what he wants. But he wants Jungkook happy. He knows for Jungkook, happiness is seeing those around him happy. And on the surface, Yoongi, you are pretty grumpy.” Seokjin takes a deep breath, his smile soft with a melancholic touch.“Namjoon doesn’t know you’re an honest person, that you’re kind. He’ll see it. Just continue to be honest with Jungkook. And be kind.”

Yoongi follows Jin’s gaze. Hope’s dancing to some beat in his head. Jungkook’s tugging on Jimin’s sleeve that holds the squid, Taehyung wrapped around his waist. And he’s here, Seokjin there, and he even felt like Namjoon might belong here.

“We have you, too,” Yoongi says, scuffing his shoe. “I mean, it’s nice to have you, too. And... I’ll be good to Jungkook.”

Seokjin smiles a bit happier this time, walking past Yoongi. “That’s good to know.” He smacks his ass then breaks into a trot. “So don’t fuck it up!”

Yoongi blanches as he watches Jin run away. “Why is it gonna be me who fucks it up with you people!”

He chases after Seokjin, arms pumping hard to keep up with the sluggishness in his body. Taehyung and Jimin, used to Yoongi trying to fight them, see him coming and run away from Jungkook with squeals and taunts. Jungkook turns, smiles wide, and opens his arms to Yoongi.

It’s dumb. It’s so fucking dumb the way Yoongi’s heart flips, how he crashes into Jungkook who can barely steady them from falling over. He has to say it before he gets too embarrassed. Jungkook needs to know.

“Hey, just, um, so you know, you make me happy.”

Jungkook’s lips part, eyes wide with wonder that Yoongi doesn’t deserve. Then, he’s crushing Yoongi with his superhuman strength, nuzzling into his head and giggling like a weirdo.

“Oh my god,” Jimin has a hand over his heart, tugging on Hope’s arm. Taehyung grabs Hope’s other arm, both of them bouncing around and Hope’s bouncing around, too, laughing so hard he takes all three of them to the ground. Jimin looks up from the ground to sneer at the happy couple. “It’s kind of gross when he’s like that.”

He takes off when Yoongi and Jungkook detangle to beat him over the head.

* * *

Yoongi taps his phone screen. No new messages. He looks back at his work. He taps the screen again. No new messages in the last 30 seconds. He glares at his work. He taps the phone screen again. No new messages in the last 15 seconds.

Yoongi shoves back from the desk in his studio, dragging his beanie over his face.

He texted Jungkook last. He’s not going to text him again. He could. Why not? Double texting shows he misses him. He does miss him. A shit ton. But Jungkook is studying. He doesn’t want to distract him. Maybe it will encourage him? Jungkook’s texts encourage him. Maybe he should follow up with an encouraging text.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” he says from under the beanie. He wheels in the direction of Namjoon’s voice.

“Okay, well, I kind of want to talk, and you look like a trash bag,” Namjoon’s voice moves towards Yoongi’s couch. With a sigh, Yoongi peels the beanie off his head.

Namjoon lounges on Yoongi’s couch, looking around the place. He nods towards Yoongi’s desktop. “Asked Jungkook for help with that song?”

Oh, fuck yeah, his excuse to text Jungkook. “Yeah, he said he was interested.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows in acknowledgment. “So, heard you and Jungkook had a heart to heart.”

“Heard you should mind your fucking business,” Yoongi says with his arms crossed.

“Fair point,” Namjoon says, which takes Yoongi a little off guard. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For talking to him. For trying to be a good boyfriend,” Namjoon shrugs. Yoongi feels his entire body burn. God, this is a fucking seven-way relationship. “That’s all.”

Yoongi nods because he worries his voice will crack from irritation and embarrassment as Namjoon stands to leave. Finally, maybe the weird tension in the studio will lighten up. Namjoon will stop trying to fucking exhibitionize their relationship. They could actually be partners.

“Oh, wait,” Yoongi says, an idea from the other week coming to him. Namjoon turns at the door. “We’ve got this thing we do. We all go to dinner on Sundays. Just drinks and shit. If you want to-”

“Jungkook already invited me,” Namjoon cuts him off. Yoongi squints at him.

“Mother fucker I was trying to give a peace offering,” he quips.

Namjoon blinks then laughs. He rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. Woah, that’s a whole new look. No fierce and angry frown. He’s like a giant kid. “Sorry, thanks.”

Yoongi watches as Namjoon leaves. As soon as the door shuts, he snatches up his phone.

_Yoongi_

_So that track_

His phone vibrates immediately. He does not smile about something as simple as that. Really, he doesn’t.

_Kook_

_Wat track_

_Yoongi_

_The one I need help with_

_Want to get dumplings by the studio then come help me?_

_Kook_

_omw_

Yoongi smiles, already feeling more motivated. He shuts everything down, pulls on his boots, and heads out. The walk is nice, Spring slowly turning into Summer. Yoongi stretches as he trudges down the sidewalk past old and new buildings, daisies peeking through the cracks. He makes it to the small little dumpling place in no time. He rests against the wall, thumbs in his belt loops, just enjoying the breeze carrying the scent of fried food. The place is a bit uppity, with one of those back porches that have string lights and funny-looking lounge chairs, but the food is fucking dank.

Yoongi hears a familiar motor and opens his eyes, trying to contain how eagerly he’s searching the street.

“Hyung!” Jungkook says, trotting up. Yoongi curses. He looks so damn good, messy hair getting longer each day. He’s in an old army jacket and a flannel, but somehow it looks so expensive on him. It might be. Apparently Taehyung snags thrift store things for Jungkook all the time.

“You’re early,” Jungkook says, bracing on his knees. “I saw you and thought I was late but you’re early.”

“Yeah, so there was no need to run,” Yoongi offers.

“You’re always early, actually,” Jungkook inquires.

“I like being early,” Yoongi shuffles his feet. “It gives you time where you have to do nothing. Like scheduled nothingness.”

“For someone who prides themselves on minimal effort, that sure sounds like there’s a lot of effort in your day,” Jungkook teases.

“Hi yeah, could the kid who was too scared to talk to me please come back?” Yoongi grumbles, playing with the collar of his old Rolling Stones shirt. Jungkook giggles. His nose scrunches up as he takes Yoongi’s hand, and Yoongi melts. Jungkook’s hands are warm from running over. Jungkook warms him up inside.

Goddamn. Now he’s thinking in cliches.

“How many dumplings do you think you can eat?” Yoongi asks as they step inside. Small talk. He learned small talk helps keep talking going. Helps keep Jungkook talking. And Jungkook likes to talk. 

“One time I ate 120 in 2 hours!” Jungkook says, weaving between people to the register. He continues to explain that Taehyung had to pay for all of them. Now Taehyung will never, ever offer to pay. Yoongi makes note that no monetary food-bets should be given.

“Place three orders,” Yoongi chimes in over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“You hungry?” Jungkook asks after paying.

“Oh, well,” Yoongi scratches at his ear, “Namjoon probably is.”

He can feel Jungkook beaming at him, so he just shrugs again. Maybe he did it to win points with Namjoon, maybe he did it for Jungkook. Maybe it’s because Namjoon looked kind of cute earlier.

The small restaurant is packed, so they head outside. It feels nice in the Spring air, but even here, there’s an overflow of people snacking on dumplings.

Jungkook pushes himself up onto the ledge barricading in the small patio with ease. He looks hot, kicking his long legs against the wall, the setting sun cast behind him. Yoongi tries to follow, but his arms don’t have the power. Instead, he just glares up at Jungkook smiling down at him.

“This is the only way I have the upper hand,” Jungkook teases, reaching a hand down to help Yoongi up.

“Wow, you and Jin really are related,” Yoongi huffs, simply taking Jungkook’s hand and leaning against the wall. He fiddles with Jungkook’s fingers, trying not to get too turned on as he traces the veins on the back of his hand.

“So, how is this song?” Jungkook asks after a minute of just watching the crowd together and teasing Yoongi’s ear with a cattail.

Yoongi frowns. He fiddles with Jungkook’s fingers some more. The song has been driving him fucking crazy. He even has a sample of Namjoon on there now, and something still sounds off. Even that asshole admitted it the first time he heard it. “It’s a bitch. I posted it already, it bombed. Namjoon’s worked on it with me, we’ve both put some bars together, but we think you could give it what it needs.”

The cattail falls over Yoongi’s shoulder and to the ground. Jungkook says something, but Yoongi can’t hear it over some asshole wanting everyone to know how funny he thought some girl’s joke was.

“Huh?” Yoongi looks over, squinting in the setting sun. Jungkook’s fiddling with his drawstrings and Yoongi really wish he would stop fucking with his pants in a way that Yoongi can only imagine him taking them off.

“You want me to sing on a song that you produced and Namjoonie raps on?”

Yoongi nods.

“Is this a wet dream?”

“Are you telling me something about you and Namjoon?” Yoongi glares.

“No!”

“Good,” Yoongi says, trying to look serious though he’s teasing. “So you’re going to help?”

Jungkook’s pout breaks into a smile. And Yoongi definitely wants that smile. The one that takes over Jungkook’s face and even starts to pulse through his body.

“How the fuck are you my boyfriend?” Shit, that wasn’t supposed to be out loud.

Jungkook blanks, eyes blinking. Then he smiles even bigger as he hops down from the wall. He’s still taller than Yoongi, forcing him to tilt his head up as Jungkook steps close.

“Because I like dumplings,” Jungkook says, a chuckle coloring his words.

The fuck. “You what?”

“I like dumplings,” Jungkook says again, curling his lips in to keep from laughing. Like there’s some inside joke he isn’t a part of. Come to think of it, that’s probably true.

“Is this your shit way of trying to tease me?” Yoongi frowns. Jungkook’s mouth drops, not sure how to move forward. So Yoongi kisses him. Short, so painfully short but he can’t bear doing more in front of all these strangers. “They called our order.”

Yoongi shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to walk off. When he doesn’t feel Jungkook next to him (how the fuck can he even sense that? He’s so fucking whipped), he turns.

Jungkook stares where Yoongi was, fingers touching his lips. Oh thank god, Yoongi’s not the only one who’s whipped. “Yo, kid.”

That snaps Jungkook out of it. “Hyung!” He calls as he jogs over, “stop calling me kid.”

“Mhmhm,” Yoongi nods, taking the dumplings from the waitress with a small smile. As soon as they're on the sidewalk, Jungkook pecks his cheek, taking off with the dumplings when Yoongi tries to swat at him.

When they get back, hand in hand, Namjoon is sitting in the middle of the entryway with his palms on his knees, eyes closed. Pretty risky if they’d been intruders.

“Yo,” Namjoon says with his eyes still closed. Yoongi kind of wishes they were intruders to stunt his cockiness.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks.

“I thought new scenery would inspire me,” Namjoon says without opening his eyes. When Jungkook sets the dumplings on the coffee table, Namjoon peeks an eye open. “Dinner?”

“A snack,” Jungkook says, unpacking the food with a bounce to his step. “Yoongi ordered you some.”

“Oh, did you?” Namjoon sends Yoongi a surprised look. Yoongi shrugs. “That’s funny.”

Yoongi frowns, flopping onto one of the couches. Jungkook plops next to him, arranging the little boxes of dumplings. “I seem to be pretty funny today.”

“A dumpling ordering dumplings,” Namjoon says, coming to join them.

“A what?” Yoongi asks, a dumpling halfway to his face.

“The other day Jungkook said your cheeks look li-”

“HAHAHAHA!” Jungkook laughs, reaching across the table to shove Namjoon’s box in his hands. “Hyung you should be grateful and eat your food.”

Namjoon takes the box before it spills in his lap, eyes wide as he takes in Jungkook who is shoving two dumplings in his own mouth. He glances over at Yoongi then shoves two more in.

Yoongi leans back, remembering Jungkook’s comment earlier. “Dumplings, huh?”

“Thrkrt,” Jungkook mumbles through a mouthful of food.

“Dumplings,” Namjoon nods. Yoongi snickers, then Namjoon follows. They eat the dumplings, trading a few other comments. It’s the first not-weird interaction the three of them have had. It almost feels weird that it’s not weird.

They finish up the greasy mess and Yoongi wipes his hands on his jeans before taking Jungkook’s hand and heading to his studio (ignoring the creepy pride on Namjoon’s face at the sight).

He drags the sofa over so they can both sit in front of the desktop screen. He plops down and Jungkook snuggles in close, legs crossed and shoulders bouncing in excitement.

“You that excited?” Yoongi teases, a little pleased with himself regardless. Jungkook’s hair bounces as he agrees.

“It’s like I’m a VIP,” Jungkook giggles. “I was your fan before I was your boyfriend.”

“Yah,” Yoongi complains, trying to mask his giddiness with a complaint. He shoves the headphones on Jungkook’s head, pinching his cheek. Jungkook just smiles harder, adjusting the headband.

“Okay, so no judging, it’s not finished, even though it was at one point,” Yoongi mumbles as he pulls the file open. Jungkook continues to bounce with energy as he watches the different applications pop up on the screen. “You ready?”

Jungkook tries to calm down, chewing on his bottom lip as the screen refracts in his large eyes. Yoongi takes a deep breath, then hits play.

“Oh,” Jungkook mutters. “So jazzy, I remember this one.”

Yoongi clicks around, pulling it forward a bit. “Namjoonie-hyung!” Jungkook remarks, clapping his hands, smile falling as he refocuses.

“This,” Yoongi points at the screen again while the stretch between their verses goes on. “This part is empty.”

Jungkook squints a bit as though the answer may be in the tiny scribbles of sound recording. Yoongi’s piece comes in. He blushes a bit, the excitement on Jungkook’s face pulling a smile onto his own despite how cool he tries to be.

The beat plays on a bit then fades out.

“It’s kind of… sad,” Jungkook says, staring at the screen still. “A little lost. The thing about the cold temperature…”

“Oh, that’s Pluto,” Yoongi explains. He rubs over his lips as he considers how to explain the concept. “It’s something Namjoon and I actually agreed on. You know, Pluto is this lonely planet. And it comes and goes from being a planet or a star. This feeling of being lost or mislabeled while trying to find someone or yourself. It kind of fit, so we mirrored that in the piece. Kind of like an echo circling back around.”

Yoongi glances at Jungkook who… is focused on Yoongi’s lips. Yoongi wets them, dry from his fingertips. Jungkook licks his own. Yoongi can’t help but chuckle at the way he seems to mimic whatever he’s watching.

Jungkook notices and clears his throat, turning back to the song. “I like that.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi asks, a little unsure.

“Play it again?” Jungkook asks, adjusting the headphones.

Yoongi does. Jungkook mumbles under his breath the first time, some of the words from Yoongi’s explanation. “Again?”

The second time, he’s humming. Something soft, breathy, long notes in the gap. “Can I try something?”

“That’s why you’re here,” Yoongi affirms. He pulls it back to the beginning. Yoongi’s a little tired of hearing Namjoon’s voice in his ears, but then Jungkook takes a deep breath and sings _I’m just orbiting you, I’m just going in circles, I missed you, I lost you._

Yoongi’s mouth falls open. Jungkook’s pitch swirls with the beats, the high-pitched sound almost sad but filled with a kind of finality. Like regret. Jungkook's eyes are pinched closed, hands holding the words before him as he adjusts to take in more air, changing the words a bit after Yoongi’s chorus before the song fades out. His voice hovers in the air with the final notes.

Jungkook opens his eyes, that calm sense of confidence from the day Yoongi watched him in the television’s reflection now next to him, the clarity of reality sucker-punching Yoongi. It’s perfect. The words. The sounds. He’s perfect.

“God, Kook, you’re fucking perfect.” Yoongi turns to smile at Jungkook, but he’s already looking at him, eyes shining. 

“Yeah?” He asks, a little breathless.

Yoongi blushes a bit. Fuck, in his excitement he said something stupid cheesy. “Yeah.”

The couch creaks as Jungkook leans closer, a smiling plumping his cheeks. “Yeah?”

“Don’t make me say i-” Jungkook drinks up Yoongi’s words, hands cupping Yoongi’s cheeks and knocking the large headphones off his head. He takes advantage of Yoongi’s open mouth to meet Yoongi’s tongue.

Yoongi melts, hanging onto Jungkook’s wrists for dear life as he’s consumed. He’s greedy but has to ask for nothing as Jungkook’s just as eager. His eyes flutter closed, only experiencing Jungkook through his smells, his touches, the exhales of his breath. There’s so much want and Jungkook escalates his touches and kisses so fast. Yoongi turns to welcome Jungkook closer, tugging on his wrists.

But Jungkook parts. Yoongi’s eyes open under a furrowed brow, yet Jungkook’s expression is stony as he nods. Yoongi nods back, not sure what he’s silently agreeing to. Jungkook stands, takes a few steps to the door, and for a second Yoongi already feels the blue balls overtaking his very being before Jungkook locks the door. He grabs the edge of the couch and slides it away from the soundboard effortlessly. Yoongi swings with the motion, watching as his boyfriend manhandles him and his studio but doesn’t have a single witty remark as Jungkook eases back into the space next to him.

When Jungkook tilts his head to fit his lips against Yoongi’s again, he places a hand on his thigh. Yoongi immediately places his own on top, engulfing Jungkook’s own hand. It makes him smile, so small compared to Jungkook yet his hands are so much bigger.

Jungkook smiles back against his lips, sucking on Yoongi’s bottom lip as his hand slides higher. Yoongi’s back arches, desperate from the slightest hint of what’s to come. His brain fogs, the intensity making his mind murky, but he squeezes Jungkook’s hand in encouragement as he tries to pull Jungkook closer by the nape of his neck.

Jungkook finds the inseam of Yoongi’s jeans. Holy fuck, it’s like a cattle prod electrifying him with ecstasy. Yoongi preens like the little bitch he is with Jungkook. Jungkook squeezes again and Yoongi moans against Jungkook’s sticky lips.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook whispers, brushing noses. Yoongi peeps an eye open, realizing he’s screwed them shut, fingers digging into Jungkook’s neck now. He takes a deep, shuddering breath when Jungkook’s hand massages over his bulge. He’s so fucking hard already. Yoongi tries to kiss him again, wanting to be consumed with the added pleasure, but Jungkook pulls back. Yoongi pouts, trying to drag Jungkook back in, but Jungkook’s strength overpowers his.

Yoongi has half a mind to crawl into Jungkook’s lap, but Jungkook does him one better. His hand massages back down Yoongi’s thigh and over his knee as he sinks to the floor, shuffling to spread Yoongi’s legs enough for him to fit in between.

“Shit,” Yoongi almost cries. Jungkook’s shoulders nestle between his knees as he pulls Yoongi’s hips forward. He’s watching Yoongi, a hungry heat blazing in his eyes like he’s challenging Yoongi to stop him. What a fucking ridiculous idea.

“Hyu--” Jungkook’s voice catches in his throat as his fingers ghost over the front of Yoongi’s jeans. It’s a sin to have someone blushing like this between his legs, to be staring down at such innocent, wide eyes. He takes a deep breath and tries again, “Yoongi.”

Yoongi wets his parched lips, amazed by how affected he is at the sound of his name falling off Jungkook’s tongue. But he doesn’t even have a moment to consider it. The snap of his jeans’ button cracks through the room like lightning, making him jump, in turn making Jungkook snatch his hands away.

Terrified it’ll end too soon, Yoongi latches onto his wrists. He’s waited so, so long for those hands to wrap around his dick. Jungkook’s lips part in shock, but his wrists relax in Yoongi’s grasp. Then he realizes he may be forcing Jungkook to do something he doesn’t want to do. 

Words, use your words, he tells himself.

“Um,” Yoongi clears his throat, looking away, “it’s fine, I was just… spooked.”

It’s quiet for a moment. A moment for Yoongi to look around his studio, anywhere but Jungkook, and realize he’s got his boyfriend on his knees in his _fucking studio_. Oh god, he might come right now.

His gaze snaps back to Jungkook when he hears a small chuckle. And when he looks back, Yoongi has to bite his lip from coming on the spot. Jungkook’s hands are deftly pulling his jeans apart, eyes focused on Yoongi, a small smirk dancing on his lips with an eyebrow raised, clearly amused that Yoongi doesn’t have a handle on himself.

It annoys him. He reaches out to take a fistful of Jungkook’s hair, give it a nice tug.

“Hyung,” Jungkook’s voice cracks with a whine. His hands fumble faster, tugging Yoongi’s jeans down, hooking his fingers under his briefs. He wets his lips as he holds Yoongi’s glare, sassy expression now desperate. But once Yoongi’s dick pulls free, slapping against his stomach, Jungkook zeros in, deer eyes almost cross-eyed. Yoongi can’t handle it, his dick out and Jungkook staring so… hungrily.

Yoongi’s so focused on Jungkook’s impudence that he curses in a long, low mewl as a hand wraps around his cock, pants now at his ankles. It’s more than Yoongi could have dreamed. Jungkook’s strong grip gentle, just like holding the lens of a camera, testing the weight of Yoongi’s cock in his hand, his exposed forearm resting on Yoongi’s thigh.

His hand loosens in Jungkook’s hair, and the boy takes his chance to throw his elbows over Yoongi’s thighs and get his lips on par with his hand. It’s the softest stroke, maybe even an accident as he just holds Yoongi’s cock, but Yoongi’s hips buck up with the need for more. Hot breath puffs against the head of his cock, already leaking with precum. Just from some light teasing and the urgency in Jungkook’s gaze. Jungkook gives a decent, deliberate stroke of Yoongi’s cock, and it’s fucking everything.

Yoongi bites down on his fist, terrified Namjoon will hear the groan that leaves his chest. Wait, it’s soundproof. Holy shit he’s in a soundproof room.

He shudders, letting a small sound escape when he feels each pad of Jungkook’s fingers, the knuckles as he twists his wrist, skilled in a way Yoongi could only dream. It’s firmer, tighter like he knows what Yoongi wants. This is what he wants. Which is why when warm breath is more palpable against the head of his cock, he suddenly finds his hands back in Jungkook’s hair, but not pulling him closer.

Jungkook peers up at him under his bangs in shock, something like embarrassment brushing over his features as Yoongi holds him a few inches from his dick. “What did I do?”

Yoongi inhales a deep, steadying breath. He tries to gather his thoughts, sort through his desires. “Nothing wrong. Totally nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Then…” Jungkook’s eyes dart back to Yoongi’s cock still in his hand. That. That was it.

“I really…” Yoongi wants to look away but he knows he shouldn’t. Jungkook thinks he’s in trouble, and he’ll only feel worse if Yoongi can’t look him in the face. “I’ve been dreaming about your hand on my cock since the first night I watched you twist that camera lens in my face.”

Jungkook’s lips form a small oh. Then, a bright, toothy smile bunches up his cheeks. Too adorable to have his hands on Yoongi’s dick. “That long?”

Yoongi huffs in frustration. “I really just want your hands.”

Jungkook’s smile grows a bit, and then he’s doing the exact opposite of what Yoongi asks, dropping his cock. Yoongi makes a grunt of dissatisfaction, but then Jungkook places his hands on either side of Yoongi, pulling himself up by his arms to sit in Yoongi’s lap. He drops his ass onto Yoongi’s knees, staring down at him now but still looking just as in awe.

“You want a handjob instead of a blowie?” He asks, bangs falling to the side as he tilts his head in question.

Yoongi’s own head tilts to the other side. He rests his hands on Jungkook’s hips. It feels so natural. He’s done it countless times now since they started kissing. But the whole scene, his pants around his ankles and Jungkook sat on his lap, he hopes this feels just as natural soon. He slides his hands down to Jungkook’s thighs. “One, never say the word blowie again. Let it be known you ruined the moment this time. And two, yes, one hundred percent.”

Jungkook giggles, shoulders up to his ears. The collar of his shirt almost rides over his chin. Yoongi moves his hands under Jungkook’s flannel and on Jungkook’s waist. Warm skin beneath his palms. It makes Jungkook squirm, grunting a bit. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Jungkook blushes, looking down between their laps and gently taking Yoongi’s cock in his hands again. His fingers trace over the veins, gently exploring the length and shape. Yoongi’s breath catches, and Jungkook’s eyes are immediately back on him.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook whispers.

Yoongi’s face burns. It’s not the… adjective he was expecting. But Jungkook says it again, “so pretty.”

Yoongi turns to the side, unable to run from Jungkook’s roaming eyes as he sits on his thighs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Yoongi’s neck as he grips his cock firmly again. He places another, wetter kiss, and Yoongi chokes on a whimper.

“You sound so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs below his ear, nibbling gently. Yoongi can’t hold it back this time, mewling as his back arches off the couch. He’s desperate for a faster touch, but he’s locked down to the couch. 

Jungkook braces a hand by his head, nudging his nose into Yoongi’s cheek until he turns to kiss him. It’s slow, soft, the trade of their lips in time with Jungkook’s strokes. Yoongi can barely even focus on the pleasure in his cock when he’s got Jungkook all over him. It’s so much, all he can do is hold on again, trying to pull Jungkook forward, flush against him.

“Don’t talk so much,” Yoongi whines, embarrassed by how breathless he sounds. Embarrassed by the words Jungkook is saying.

“No,” Jungkook says, short and final. It’s hot. God, it’s all hot. Jungkook leans back again. Yoongi keeps his eyes closed, licking his pretty lips, trying to be comfortable with the praise. No one’s praised him like this. Called him such… soft things before. “You’re so… your lips are pretty, Hyung.”

Yoongi peeks an eye open when Jungkook starts focusing on the head of his cock. Fuck, he’s so good at this. Of course he is. Jungkook’s good at everything. Why is he surprised? 

“If they're so-” Yoongi gasps, gritting his teeth, “-so fucking pretty, then kiss them, dammit.”

“Do you like it?” Jungkook ignores him in favor of his own interests. He asks like he needs more than Yoongi’s soft whines and petty commentary to be sure. He moves with a determination he doesn’t need like he has to win Yoongi over, that if he stares hard enough, his intentions, his declarations will burrow into the back of Yoongi’s skull. Yoongi remembers. Jungkook’s not just a shy, panicked kid. He’s got eyes that blaze with a competitive spirit. His jaw’s tight, focus honed in on Yoongi. His actions change with every gasp, every moan from Yoongi. Studying him.

It’s a lot, to say the least.

“I like you,” Yoongi gasps, fingers digging into Jungkook’s thighs as the praise spurs him on. He remembers Jungkook’s ridiculous idea that Yoongi didn’t want this. He hopes his own face, embarrassing as possible, can convey how good Jungkook’s doing. “So good.”

Jungkook nips Yoongi’s lip and gives a breathy, nervous laugh. “Do you like my hand wrapped around your… your dick? Like this?”

“J-jesus, Kook,” Yoongi’s stomach curls, the pressure building. Jungkook’s working down the buttons of his flannel with his free hand, and Yoongi somehow grows harder at just the sight. Tan, chiseled skin appearing beneath.

“Your dick’s pretty, too,” Jungkook says, face just as serious. Yoongi will probably laugh about that later, but for now, it makes his stomach twist. Especially when he looks down with Jungkook to see his arm muscles flexing with every pull over the head of his cock. “And... your eyes. You look like a kitten when you look at me.”

“I do?” Yoongi asks, cursing himself for admitting Jungkook’s right. He shudders as Jungkook smiles, a dangerous smile with those sultry eyes. He kisses him just as soft as his words but as intentional as his passion.

Yoongi tries to clear his throat but it breaks into a grunt. Just say what you’re thinking, he says to his poor frazzled, fucked out mind. “You’re, uh, you’re amazing. Too amazing. It’s… this.. all … amazing. And I’m just… and you’re...” 

“I’m here. I wanna be near you, Hyung,” Jungkook whispers immediately. “I always, always wanna be near you.”

He shifts forward, and Yoongi wraps his arms around his small waist, trying to hold him close. The words make his throat tighten. He feels useless, nothing but a rag doll as Jungkook reassures him, pleasures him, puts himself on display for Yoongi. He gasps into Jungkook’s mouth with another firm tug and scratches at Jungkook’s bare skin.

Jungkook hums in response, picking up pace, murmuring “I wanna make you cum, hear how pretty you sound,” against Yoongi’s open mouth.

“Shit, Kook,” Yoongi breathes, chasing his end as Jungkook looks at him through eyes hazy with lust. Yoongi fumbles for something to grab onto, large palms splaying over Jungkook’s hips, and it finally dawns on him that Jungkook’s hovering over him, completely untouched. He closes his eyes, locking their lips together again, and runs his hands over the rough fabric of Jungkook’s jeans, trying to grip at the bulge within. Holy shit, that’s a lot to hold.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps, head falling to Yoongi’s shoulder as he does his best to squeeze, mind stalling out as Jungkook’s grip tightens. Yoongi shudders when Jungkook’s hot breath pants against his neck. “Yoongi.”

The word catches in Jungkook’s throat, tipping into a high pitched whine as Yoongi rubs his palm against Jungkook’s crotch over and over. It cuts off just like Jungkook’s notes earlier, more like a song than a moan, causing Yoongi’s hips to buck as Jungkook’s hand stalls momentarily, moaning again into Yoongi’s neck. It’s so symphonious, and fuck, Yoongi’s not going to listen to that demo track without getting hard now. He wants to hear Jungkook say his name like that over, and over, and over again. A track he’d never skip, that he’d implant in his ears, save to his memory.

Yoongi tries to kiss his temple, anything, anything he can do now that Jungkook’s so close, not watching him, breaking him from the spell, but Jungkook’s hand starts up again at the touch of his lips on his skin, sitting up straight, cheeks flushed a deep red. His large eyes are softer but somehow much more daring as he watches Yoongi work him through his jeans and his own grip quicken the pace between them.

“Gonna cum?” Jungkook asks. His voice is hoarse but so controlled, it almost pisses Yoongi off. He’s falling apart from a handjob (with granted, the greatest hands he’s ever seen), and Jungkook’s sat on top of him, breathing just a little faster. 

Yoongi’s breath hitches, he closes his eyes and his body seizes and shudders. Before he can warn Jungkook, he’s got his lips on Yoongi’s, cupping his cheek, licking into his mouth as Yoongi whines, short choppy sounds, through his release, too lost to feel embarrassed. Unable to hide his cries as Jungkook swallows each one, drinking them up like he can’t get enough of the taste. He can barely focus on his release, the tingling rocking through his body when each brush of contact with Jungkook is just as exhilarating.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook whispers again, but this time there’s a sense of awe to his voice. Yoongi’s cheeks are warm with so much more than post-orgasmic high. He doesn’t want to, but he can’t help but look into Jungkook’s eyes as he strokes his cheeks. He wears a soft smile, hungry eyes replaced with adoration Yoongi usually only catches when Jungkook’s too drunk to notice. Yoongi reaches up to cup Jungkook’s face with shaky hands. They don’t say anything for a bit, just stare at each other like the lovesick idiots they are.

“That’s the best handjob I’ve ever had,” Yoongi states after a moment.

Jungkook giggles, rolling off Yoongi’s thighs to sit next to him. He stares at his cum-soaked hand. Yoongi blushes, reaching for a rag. “Here, you can use this.”

The rag falls from his hand as he turns back to Jungkook. Jungkook, who has his hand raised to his face, tongue licking up his palm. He freezes, cheeks and neck reddening.

“I, um,” he stutters, tongue painted with the cum. Yoongi gawks.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he groans. “I might get hard again.”

“Really?” Jungkook lights up, sitting up straighter. He takes the rag though.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for so long,” Yoongi’s lips are loose with euphoria. He grips Jungkook’s neck and buries his nose into the boy’s shoulder, staring down at his exposed skin. “I could get hard again just reminding myself this is reality.”

Oh. Yoongi runs his hands down Jungkook’s exposed chest, wrapping back around to where he’d stopped his earlier… progress.

Jungkook yelps, wriggling away. Yoongi’s head shoots up, confused, reaching out again. Why… “I mean, you did it for me, so…”

“I’m good,” Jungkook says, his bushy hair whipping back and forth as he shakes his head.

“What? No. I mean, I’m not gonna be an asshole the first time we-”

“I’m _good_ ,” Jungkook says, pointedly looking away, adjusting his hips, then again, wincing a bit.

Oh. _Oh. Oooh._ Yoongi tries really, really hard not to smile. “Did you…?”

Jungkook shoots him a glare, which looks dumb as fuck with his flushed cheeks and messy hair and shirt torn open on the couch. But then, his big brown eyes start to well up. His nose scrunches with a heavy sniff.

Yoongi gulps, immediately reaching to wipe any tears that might fall, tugging Jungkook into his shoulder now. He pets at Jungkook’s messy hair, unsure what to do, haziness replaced with urgency. “Why are you crying?”

Jungkook bats his hand away, trying to hide his face. Yoongi wants to tell him that’s fucking ridiculous as he just stared Yoongi down while he jerked him off, but Jungkook groans, “Shut up. I’ve thought about it so much. And I was- was worked up!! You looked so hot. And...I’m... just…” he groans like he’s frustrated with himself, “emotional.”

Yoongi wants to smack him over the head. The stuttering shy eyes of the boy he crushed on are back. He won’t be getting used to the confidence, the ego that takes over Jungkook that somehow sedates Yoongi’s sass and has him whining at being called pretty. With the shy Jungkook back, Yoongi feels confident again. To an extent. Enough to form coherent thoughts. “Are you being serious right now? You’re gonna cry over coming in your pants?”

“Don’t say it out loud!” Jungkook sniffles, burying his face in Yoongi’s neck and begging him to shut up again.

Yoongi smiles, trying to suppress a shudder from Jungkook’s breath on his neck as he continues to grunt in annoyance. He can’t help it. It hurts his cheeks. He can’t stop, even as he brings Jungkook’s face to his, pressing a soft kiss to his trembling lips. This big muscled giant just came in his pants over him. Everything about him is soft. The fluffy hair tickling his fingers, the soft lips against his, the heart that bursts at the silliest things Yoongi says. Yoongi cups Jungkook’s cheeks, feeling the softness against his rough hands.

Jungkook’s top lip juts out. “It’s just a thing that happens. I just… I’m so happy and I kind of… cry.”

Yoongi’s heart tugs in five different directions. He just nods and pulls Jungkook in for a kiss, who looks like he might cry from admitting he cries. This time, he’s climbing in Jungkook’s lap as Jungkook’s hands tug at his sides, wanting him closer. Wanting. They both want to be close, and shit if that doesn’t make Yoongi actually a little hard again in a fucked up romantic way.

“So,” Jungkook says after Yoongi gives a small kiss to his nose. Something super cheesy he never thought he’d do. It seems he’ll do a lot of shit for Jungkook. “So… does that mean we can do things… in here?”

Yoongi cocks his head. Jungkook blushes. Fucking ridiculous when he still has cum drying under his nails. “You said no public places and this is… I mean I locked the door…”

Yoongi barks a laugh. He ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “Yeah, sure, won’t catch me turning down anything like that inside my studio.”

Jungkook smiles, that big one with all the teeth that makes his eyes disappear. “That’s hot to think about.”

“Really hot,” Yoongi agrees but feels his cheeks heating at the admission.

“So…” Jungkook’s fingers drum against his sides. “Can I come back tomorrow then?”

God help Yoongi’s soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't they cute? My favorite idiots


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi and Jungkook get better at the boyfriend thing.

Yoongi sets his bag on the floor as he cautiously takes in the scene before him. Jin and Jungkook sit opposite each other with paper and pen atop the coffee table. Jungkook has his head in his hands while Jin sits pensively like he’s been waiting for Yoongi.

With a small tilt of his head, Jin says as much. “Ah, Yoongi, we’ve been waiting for you.”

“Okay,” Yoongi draws out, stepping out of his converse and into the living room. 

Jungkook drops his hands, grabs the hood of his sweatshirt, and pulls it down over his eyes. Nothing but pink cheeks and pouty lips. He whines, “Hyung, I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, you knew this was coming,” Jin sighs with a shake of his head. Yoongi’s heart sinks for just a second before Jungkook sends Jin a resentful look. A look of betrayal. Something’s happened. Yoongi tenses, standing between the two. “It’s time we lay some ground rules.”

Oh. Oh thank fuck. Yoongi sits next to Jungkook. “I thought someone had died or some shit.”

“Something has died,” Jin says with a serious face. “A little piece of me. Every time I come home and hear you through the walls.”

Yoongi can’t help but chuckle. Jungkook groans, head thrown back on the sofa. “That’s not true!”

“Well,” Jin stands, dusting invisible dirt from his pants. “Now that Yoongi is here, let’s conduct an experiment.”

Before either boy can object, Jin walks over to Jungkook’s room. “Okay, I want you both to stay right where you are. In the living room. A common space. That Jungkook and I share. And listen.”

They watch as Jin makes a show of stepping into Jungkook’s room and closing the door. They even hear the click of the lock, which honestly makes Yoongi’s stomach warm. He knows that click by now and what typically follows. It’s some fucking Pavlov shit.

“AH!” Jin’s muffled voice comes through the wall. “Fuck! Oh! Hyung!”

Jungkook rips the hood off his head. He turns back to Yoongi, who can barely contain his amusement, eyes wide and hand cupped over his mouth. Jungkook falls off the couch onto his knees, curling into a ball of embarrassment.

“That totally sounds like you,” Yoongi whispers.

Shock and regret descend Jungkook’s face as he turns to shove Yoongi who just bursts into laughter.“It does not!”

Jin unlocks the door and reemerges. Clearing his throat, he straightens his work shirt and takes a seat again. He tries to school the smirk on his own face as Jungkook buries behind Yoongi’s back in shame. He picks up the pen and turns the paper towards himself. “Let’s lay some ground rules, shall we?”

Yoongi nods. 

Recently, Jungkook became too closely related with work for Yoongi’s own good. The memory of Jungkook now infected every part of his studio. Everytime Yoongi sat at his desk, he thought of Jungkook. The week after Jungkook jerked him off on the couch, Yoongi had finally gotten his lips around his cock. The sighs and whimpers reminded him of Jungkook’s melody on the new track, just as high pitched and breathy. He couldn’t get anything done because he was either thinking of Jungkook or had the man himself in his arms… or his mouth.

Yoongi shakes his head, worried he might get hardon right in front of JIn. No more Jungkook in the studio was his verdict. Which wasn’t bad. It’s not like they didn’t have other places to go. Apparently, this one might also be off-limits, too.

Jungkook just groans from behind his back. Yoongi should be embarrassed, he should, but Jungkook has enough for both of them. And honestly, Yoongi has no regrets. Becoming intimate with Jungkook had progressed their relationship in ways he didn’t expect. Nothing boosts a man’s ego quite like having someone writhing and panting from his every touch. Not that he’s going to tell Jin that.

“One,” Jin says, writing it down under the title _House Fuck Rules_ , “No sexy stuff when I’m home.”

Yoongi nods. Jungkook groans in response, refusing to sit up straight.

“Two,” Jin continues, “You have any rules?”

Jungkook pops up. “Huh?”

“Do you have any to add?” Jin asks.

“It’s just one rule?” Jungkook exclaims, grabbing the paper. “You humiliated us for one rule?”

“I’m not that humiliated,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Side with me!” Jungkook whines, collapsing to the other side of the couch in defeat.

“Jin has a good point,” Yoongi says, “so I’ll add, we respect your needs, you respect ours.”

Jin smiles, snagging the paper back from Jungkook and jotting down the last rule. He gets up and ceremoniously slaps it on the fridge with a magnet. That makes Yoongi crack a bit. Fantastic, he won’t hear the end of it the next time everyone’s over. Now that they’ve all agreed, Jungkook is quick to drag Yoongi to the safety of his room.

The first time Yoongi came in here, he thought he might faint. It was different than being in his studio. For one, Yoongi’s studio is much cleaner than Jungkook’s room. Jungkook has the equipment and accessories for three cameras along with every textbook and scrap of paper ever needed for his education. Along with that is the “work out rack” that most would consider a bed. Honestly, Jin was glad when Yoongi started coming over because Jungkook finally began cleaning his room like the rest of the house.

But it’s still Jungkook’s room. His boyfriend’s room. And making out on a bed has very different connotations than making out on a couch. So Yoongi takes advantage of the new situation, saving his sanity by plopping in Jungkook’s desk chair while the younger boy flops on his bed with a textbook, which weighs half of Yoongi’s bodyweight. He opens up a couple articles that Namjoon sent him. He doesn’t exactly care what people have to say about Namjoon’s next album, which Yoongi’s had a heavy hand in. But he does. He _really_ does. These are people that matter.

Damn, he really has to work on this caring-about-other-people thing. 

He’d come to the realization last week. Or Jimin had brought it to his attention and graciously shared Yoongi’s annoying music process in a definitely painfully honest way. When Yoongi first hears a new song, especially one that sounds close to what he’s trying to do, he’s floored. He can’t handle it, that someone did what he couldn’t. But over time, he picks it apart. He finds ways he differentiates or ways it could have improved.

Jungkook is a lot like music. Or at least, how Yoongi thinks about music. _His_ music. And Jungkook is _his_ boyfriend.

It’s his process. Yoongi’s a producer. He has tunes in his head. He knows exactly what he wants. Or sometimes, he just has an idea that is somehow exactly what he wants. Then he has to sit in front of his computer, or now his entire desk, and fidget with bobs and keys and all kinds of noises to get it right. He always gets frustrated. It’s not the song, it’s him. Always has to step away, starts to get consumed by how he can’t recreate it, or if he does, the negative comments after posting get to him. Fuck up his mentality. But then, when he looks closer, he remembers that there’s more to it. There’s so much more. He just has to sit down and really see it in perspective.

And he sees Jungkook in perspective now. He’s hot, he’s amazing, he’s the cutest little shit Yoongi’s ever met. But Jungkook’s also a brat. And he sucks at people skills sometimes. And he asks weird-ass shit like “why do people like cum but not boogers when the body makes both?”

And just like his songs, when Yoongi figures out these little pieces of how they fit together. It makes him happier, more motivated, ready to construct what he really wants. Each weird or new thing about Jungkook is two-fold. Each time Jungkook’s eyes dazzle, Yoongi realizes there’s a reason. It’s himself. And each time Jungkook asks a dumb question, Yoongi sasses back, and Jungkook loves it. They fit. The real Yoongi and the real Jungkook fit.

Yoongi just needed time. To figure out how to fit a new piece, a new tune, into his life. One that seemingly didn’t fit. And now… now he needs it. The bridge that carries the melody through the song. 

Yoongi hears the large textbook slam closed, and Jungkook’s fingers ruffle his hair. “Fuck school!”

“I’ve been telling you that all along,” Yoongi hums, flipping to the next article he’s not really reading. Not when Jungkook’s desperately gazing at him over his shoulder like that. On his bed. Fuck.

“I’ve got to do well on these exams. I straight up bombed World War II,” Jungkook kicks his feet on the bed, ruffling the sheets. Damn, he and Yoongi fucked up those sheets last week. When Jungkook almost came just from Yoongi explaining his music-Jungkook analogy while kissing him. Shit, he’s hard again. Focus.

Yoongi smirks, wondering how Jungkook failed one of the only topics that seems to be common knowledge globally. But seeing the distress in Jungkook’s cinched eyebrows, he rolls the chair closer. Even though Yoongi never went to college, he has some opinions about it. “Look, although exam day may seem like the day that decides your life, within just a few hours, it’ll be over and life will keep going, regardless of the predetermined decisions someone made. Just do your best.”

The tension in Jungkook’s face melts as Yoongi keeps going about his distaste for school and how college isn’t a cure-all and he has more to offer than a degree. Really, he just doesn’t believe that standardized testing determines someone’s worth. Especially someone like Jungkook, who has so much to offer.

Jungkook rolls onto his elbows, bright eyes shining. It makes Yoongi sink into his chair a bit more, pressured by the wonder in his gaze. “Hyung, you’re so profound.”

Yoongi can’t help but feel stupid happy, but he sniffs, trying to be… profound or something. “It’s whatever.”

He distracts from the praise by trying to read the next article Namjoon sent. But like the dumbass he is, his thumb hits something on his phone, and he can’t seem to get the pop-up to go away. “Jungkook,” he whines, holding his phone out.

“You’re such a grandpa,” Jungkook giggles as he fixes the screen.

Yoongi curls his lip, snatching the phone back. “Excuse you?”

“Hope said it the other day, and it fits so well,” Jungkook giggles more, body wriggling on the bed. 

Yoongi is over here trying to offer advice and this little shit is... “are you seriously calling me a grandpa? Your boyfriend?”

That stops the giggles, Jungkook’s head whipping back around to him, unkempt hair falling in his face. “Did u just call yourself my boyfriend?”

Yoongi’s cheeks burn. He swivels the chair around. “Well, I am. So, yeah.”

There are a few seconds of silence while Yoongi tries to regain his normal body temperature.

“I can do this only if you tell me you like me,” Jungkook tries. Yoongi looks over his shoulder to see him sitting cross-legged, watching him expectantly. The textbook still lays closed.

“Don’t do this to me,” Yoongi grumbles, cheeks once again on fire. He wishes he had a hood to put over his head, but the warm months had left him in a T-shirt.

Jungkook groans behind him. When he speaks again, his voice is closer, lower. “Hyung, please, my brain is so dead. Tell me I make you happy again.”

Yoongi resists the urge to crush his already cracked phone screen. He’s doing this on purpose. It’s like Jungkook wants him to break Jin’s rules. “Jungkook,” goddammit, did his voice just waver, “you need to learn to separate your personal and professional life.”

“I don’t text you when I’m in class,” Jungkook quips.

“Look, just study until… a bit more,” Yoongi says, realizing that his need to deal with his embarrassment and libido is counteracting his earlier virtues about school.

Jungkook pouts, but Yoongi hears him rustling in the sheets and flipping the book back open. For about five more minutes. As soon as they hear Jin fiddling in the kitchen, Jungkook swings his legs off the bed and drags the desk chair over to him to perch his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Whatcha looking at?”

“Not your homework,” Yoongi starts, closing out of another article where Namjoon referenced his collab with a budding new producer. Budding his ass. What about genius? Undiscovered talent? Underappreciated local producer?

“Yoongi.” Yoongi can hear the pout on his lips. Arms wrap around Yoongi’s middle, pulling the back of the chair flush against him. His hands settle in Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi’s a weak man, he can’t help but place his hand over Jungkook’s. They're warm as always, the backs soft while the pads of his fingers are rough from workouts. “History is dumb. Now is important. It’s all, like, isms. A person should believe in themselves, not isms. Like you.”

Yoongi pauses. He’s surprised by Jungkook’s words. “Did you just quote John Lennon?”

Jungkook cocks his head when Yoongi turns to face him with a bemused quirk of his mouth. “No? It’s from a movie clip Taehyung sent me on Vine.”

“As in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?” Yoongi tries again.

“Is that what it’s from?” Jungkook asks again. Yoongi huffs in surprise. Jungkook just smiles, nuzzling into Yoongi’s neck.

“You’re so smart,” he murmurs in Yoongi’s ear. Lips press against his piercings.

Yoongi shoves at his shoulder with his own. “And you’re so horny.”

“Uh-uh,” Jungkooks’ hair brushes back and forth over his neck. It sends a shiver down his spine. “These are essential boyfriend duties.”

Yoongi chuckles, flipping through the rest of another article. Jungkook fidgets impatiently. Yoongi likes it, the fact that Jungkook really wants his attention. This is good enough for him. Jungkook wrapped around him and his hands in his. Apparently, it’s not good enough for Jungkook. Yoongi bites back a smile when he hears Jungkook sniffing his hair. What a weirdo. “Plus, I deserve a reward.”

Yoongi drops his phone and turns a bit to try and look at Jungkook’s face propped on his shoulder. “For what?”

“I got the promotion!” Jungkook beams. His teeth are on full display as he bounces excitedly behind Yoongi, the bed creaking under his energy.

“That’s awesome Kook,” Yoongi smiles. Jungkook’s studying hard, and he is excelling even at work. He wants to excel and seeks out opportunities. His goals aren’t defined yet, but he’s doing good at what’s in front of him. It’s impressive and it’s motivating. It’s the kind of energy Yoongi wants around him, just another reason he likes Jungkook. “Not surprising, you win everything.”

“You’re sweet,” Jungkook blushes, but Yoongi’s not sure if he’s talking about him or his words when Jungkook presses a kiss to his shoulder.

Yoongi frowns, the chair turning more as Jungkook shuffles him around. He’s got his hands on Yoongi’s thighs, big brown eyes peering up at him from the bed. A fake kind of innocence that doesn’t match the way his hands drift higher, closer to the inseam of Yoongi’s jeans. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you literally just spewed a bunch of motivational shit then told me I’m great,” Jungkook says, scooting a bit closer. Before Yoongi can retort, Jungkook adds, “it’s the tongue technology.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Jungkook’s favorite song of his that he quotes over and over. More than anything, he thinks Jungkook just likes the suggestion of Yoongi’s tongue on him. Yoongi likes it, too. Loves kissing Jungkook, tasting his skin, feeling the soft give of the head of his cock against the flat of his tongue.

And just like that, he’s on the bed with Jungkook, tongue dipping into the back of his throat.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook whimpers when his knuckles slip over his crotch. He’s already gasping, but a smile dances in between each kiss at winning him over. Yoongi just hums in response, mouth kissing along Jungkook’s jaw and back to his lips. Fuck it, kissing isn’t against the rules. It’s so easy to keep going once he’s kissing Jungkook. He could keep doing it forever, to hear his soft sighs and feel him get worked up. Until Jungkook makes a move to slide his hand a little lower, a little closer. Yoongi grabs it.

“House fuck rules,” he reminds Jungkook, nipping at his bottom lip. Jungkook’s lips purse, making their kisses a little awkward. He protests against Yoongi’s grip, but Yoongi holds firm.

“I _need_ to touch you,” Jungkook whines as he pulls Yoongi in by the back of his neck, palm warm on his skin. Yoongi can’t respond, knowing he can’t say _I want to, too_ or _no, we can’t_ without being a hypocrite. Because boy does he want to touch Jungkook, too. “Want to try something new I saw on the internet.”

Yoongi’s heart makes a run for it. Everytime. Every fucking time they get together, Jungkook levels it up somehow. It’s part of the reason Yoongi had to stop things at his studio since his heart rate accelerated everytime someone knocked on the door or Jungkook came to help out. It’s shortening Yoongi’s life expectancy-- his blood pressure can’t fucking handle this. “Jesus, Kook, eventually you gotta run outta ways to one-up yourself.”

Jungkook looks genuinely upset. “No, I won’t. It’ll be the best each time.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Yoongi urges. He places hand on Jungkook’s chest to get him to slow down. Mistake, big mistake, because damn does it feel nice. Yoongi tucks his bottom lip in to avoid kissing him again. Seriously, how the fuck is he built like this? 

“No,” Jungkook props up on his elbow, lips perked in a pout and brows drawn in. “It will be.”

Oh, it’s this thing again. The thing where he wants to be perfect, where he’s trying so hard he looks mad. It’s been awhile. The face has been there from time to time, but it’s been awhile since Yoongi recognized it. Reminding himself that Jungkook is an incredible person but still that kid who could barely admit his feelings to Yoongi’s face.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi starts, taking his hand, “anything you do is going to be the best to me. _You_ are the best to me.”

Jungkook’s eyes crease with a smile, even though he still looks upset. Yoongi leans in, kissing him, hoping it conveys his meaning. That Jungkook can feel how this is all he wants, dammit. It’s enough. Jungkook sighs, kissing him one more time.

An alarm goes off, sparing Yoongi any more confessions. Jungkook groans, hands dropping from Yoongi in defeat. Yoongi reaches across Jungkook who dramatically exhales a breath like Yoongi could actually pin him.

Time to go.

“Let’s go to the lake,” Yoongi tries to sound casual as he makes the suggestion. He stands despite Jungkook’s lingering hands. “It’s been a while.”

“You don’t know about the party?” Jungkook asks, getting up a little slower. A little less willingly. Damn, it’s cute.

Yoongi sighs, running a hand through his mint hair. He’d tried really, really hard to keep this a secret. “Who told you?”

Jungkook looks over, head cocked. “What do you mean? Jimin and Tae said we’re having a pre-graduation party.”

Yoongi glares at his phone. Of course. Yoongi specifically told them, even in a text so he had it in writing, that this was a surprise. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were all graduating community college this semester. It created a lot of questions about the future and a lot of concern for the present, so the older boys wanted to throw a pre-graduation party to help with the nerves.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Yoongi grumbles, sitting back on the bed.

Jungkook laughs as he changes into a real shirt. Or what he called a real shirt. Which honestly looked like all his other shirts, but he was particular about his lounge clothes and out clothes. “Why?”

“Why?” Yoongi repeats. He scratches at his cheek, annoyed he has to fucking say this out loud now. “You said you like surprises! So I was going to, I don't know, let it be a surprise for you.”

Jungkook pauses, shirt halfway down his chest, eyes wide. Yoongi continues to glare at the Jimin and Taehyung contacts in his phone until Jungkook’s shadow comes closer.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says in a low voice. Yoongi looks up in time for Jungkook’s lips to catch his own. He grips his shoulders to stay up as Jungkook’s force pushes him back on the bed again. Fingers tease at his skin again, and Yoongi can’t help the way his breath catches. Jungkook breathes against his mouth, “I like you so much.”

“I know,” Yoongi mutters back, placing one last kiss on Jungkook’s mouth.

“You better,” Jungkook says, standing again. He looks down at Yoongi, eyes raking over him before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and turning around.

“Are you threatening me or something?” Yoongi laughs. Jungkook shrugs, digging through a dresser. When he stands, Jungkook shoves a hoodie into Yoongi’s chest. “Now you’re fighting me?”

“Wear this,” Jungkook says to the wall and not Yoongi. Yoongi glances down at one of Jungkook’s many black hoodies. It’s huge. “Because it’ll get cold on the bike. And at the lake.”

Yoongi bites his lip. He is not 15. He is not smiling because his boyfriend gave him a hoodie. And he definitely didn’t just sniff it.

The lake is a bit chilly.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Hope are already running around the lake when Jungkook and Yoongi walk down the small path. They all have their shoes off, already digging into the goods. Hope dances in small circles to something he hums with a joint smoking in his mouth. Jimin and Taehyung use empty beer bottles as fake swords as they dash around in the water. Their volume disturbs any creature that might have been sneaking around, the ones that Jungkook loved to stalk and take photos of. Now they get to be the subject of his photography, immediately waving Jungkook over to snap a picture of them hanging off each other in the low water.

Yoongi takes in a deep breath, appreciating the smell of the lake and the algae. Then he groans as Taehyung wraps his arms around him, snuggling close for a photo. Hope stands behind the camera like a proud mother, making faces to get a response out of Yoongi.

“Come on, Yoongi,” Jimin whines from where he balances on a log now. “It’s our pre-pre-graduation party, you have to be fun for Jungkook.”

“I don’t mind,” Jungkook mumbles, adjusting the lense as Tae starts doing his own poses around a stationary Yoongi. He’s smiling behind the camera, so Yoongi tolerates it.

“Pre-pre?” Yoongi catches, trying not to blush at the hyper-attention of Jungkook’s camera lens as Taehyung runs off. Those hands snapping the pictures were only a half-hour ago trying to get down his pants.

“Pre-pre!” Jimin and Taehyung cheer. “We have to have another party in between exams and graduation. And then a party on graduation day! And then maybe a We’re-going-to-college-party!”

The last party tugs on Yoongi’s heartstrings a little bit. Going away to college. As if sensing his tension, Hope passes Yoongi the joint before he poses with the setting sun for Jungkook.

“If I pass history,” Jungkook whines, finally letting Yoongi have a break from the lens.

“You’ll pass, you literally aren’t built to fail,” Jin calls, traipsing down the path with three or four boxes of food in his hands-- the results of his cooking. “Though your “tutor” might slow things down a bit,” he tacks on with a wink to Yoongi. Oh god, why does he choose to confide in his boyfriend’s older brother?

Namjoon follows shortly behind, tagging along more and more these days. He’s got boxes of takeout chicken. Jimin woops, running over to help lessen the load. It’s only now that Yoongi realizes they’ve set up some picnic blankets around a small patch of trees, cheap party streamers from work decorating the small area like a fence.

Namjoon marches up to where Taehyung clings to Yoongi. “Hey Tae, I got you normal because I know you don’t like the spicy shit.”

Taehyung cheers, reaching for the chicken before he pauses, glancing at Yoongi. He schools his face, not a smile in sight as he plucks the package from Namjoon's stack and immediately walks away. Joon stands in place, jaw dropped. He turns to the group. Yoongi laughs at his expression.

“What did I do?" Namjoon asks, head swerving between the gang and Taehyung following after Jin.

“Taehyung is on Yoongi’s side. Yoongi told him you were an ass,” Jimin shrugs, already chewing on a drumstick as Hope takes the box to avoid any Jimin-germs infecting the pristine chicken wings.

Namjoon stares at Yoongi, the pleading replaced with frustration. " _Why_??"

"Because you are," Yoongi answers, but then Jungkook elbows him. He rubs at the back of his neck as he corrects, "You were."

"Well then go fix it!!" Namjoon cries, handing the chicken to them forcefully.

"Why? You wanna suck his dick or something?"

Joon's eyes go wide, mouth snapping shut. 

“Oh shit,” Hope pipes up. “Really?”

Namjoon sputters a bit, then takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes. He spins on his foot to storm off after Taehyung who continues to give him a literal cold shoulder. Jin comes over cackling and clapping his hands as he watches the two.

"He’s gay?" Yoongi and Jungkook ask at the same time with very different inflections.

"Not for now," Jin says. They watch as Namjoon gesticulates his attempts to change Taehyung’s mind, occasionally glancing back with a pleading look at the others who follow close behind. Taehyung continues to walk with his chicken hugged close, nose high in the air, maintaining his loyalty. It’s kind of flattering, Yoongi decides. And it’s immensely satisfying to watch Namjoon, his creepy relationship stalker, suffering.

The evening itself is nice. It’s really fucking nice. They all sit around smoking, drinking, and eating. The conversation floats from topic to topic while they laze about on the blankets. Yoongi can just sit back, hand on Jungkook’s thigh, and watch everything happen. Watch his favorite people have a good time in one of his favorite places under the stars in the warm weather.

“Ugh,” Taehyung rolls off the blanket, ignoring the dirt he kicks up. “Let’s stay here, so I can’t take finals.”

“I don’t know how you do that,” Jimin tuts, kicking at Taehyung’s ass. Yoongi takes a gander at Namjon who is, yep, staring at said ass. “I’ve been panicking since last week.”

“But you aren’t panicking now! We’re all just having a good time. It’s the sacredness of the lake! Kook, you understand, right?” Taehyung whines, looking for someone to take his side.

“I’m not stressed about studying, it is what it is. It’s just an exam,” Jungkook shrugs, eyes cutting to Yoongi. Yoongi gives a thumbs up. Namjoon frowns. Yoongi turns the thumbs up to Namjoon, feeling like he finally won the argument that started the first day they met.

“I’ve got to get my last few rehearsals in so Jungkookie here can film me again before the studying really buckles down,” Hope slaps Jungkook’s back who just smiles, twisting the camera in his hands. Yoongi smiles, too. Hope heard the track the three of them worked on and decided to do a dance video inspired by it. The song had so many of them involved now, so Yoongi didn’t care if it bombed. It had become precious in its own way.

Shit, did he just think the word precious? Yoongi takes another swig of beer.

“The song’s releasing soon, too,” Namjoon nods, taking a rather large chug of beer as Taehyung tries to adjust how far his shorts have ridden up. “I think it’ll do well. Yoongi put a great track together.”

“Oh, now you tell me you like it?” Yoongi chides, not once having Namjoon say something nice so easily. He called his criticism improvement, Yoongi called it nitpicking. Yoongi keeps trying to teach him that sometimes done is better than perfect. But Namjoon’s cheeks pink immediately, head nodding to Taehyung a few times. Yoongi takes a deep breath. “Thank. You. Nam. Joon.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing at Yoongi’s sass. He takes another sip of beer, watching as Namjoon stands and declares, “I’m gonna go get the sparklers.”

“Sparklers?” Taehyung lights up, scrambling to stand. Then, he hesitates, foot twisting in the sand. His elated gaze fades to embarrassment as he glances back to Yoongi. Oh man, Taehyung might not be the only one infatuated here. “I mean, oh, that’s cool.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, leading Taehyung off before Yoongi can give or withdraw permission. “Come on, Tae, let’s go help him.”

The three trot off. When Jin and Hope start talking about something on Jin’s phone in hushed voices, Yoongi decides now is the best opportunity.

“Hey,” he nudges Jungkook’s thigh who looks over. Eyes lazy, smile sloppy. Brown eyes sparkling in the low lighting around the blankets. “Want to talk?”

Jungkook chuckles, shaking his thigh and jostling Yoongi. “Hyung, you love to talk now.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, pulling Jungkook to his feet. They head back towards the water, hand in hand. Jungkook’s hoodie swamps Yoongi, and the thick fabric blocks the cool night breeze. He searches the shore for somewhere to sit. As they take a seat on some larger rocks, Yoongi stares out into the distance. The lake appears like a black void cutting the night sky. Kind of what he worries will happen in the next month. That things might be cut off. That a sudden void might appear.

“So, you’re graduating,” Yoongi starts, tugging Jungkook a bit closer.

“Uh-huh,” Jungkook nods, wrapping his arm around Yoongi. It’s nice, warm, close. Feels like he’s wanted. He remembers that Jungkook wants the same feeling, so he picks up Jungkook’s other hand, fiddling with his fingers for a moment before he gets the courage to start the conversation. Yoongi knows what he wants to ask. What he needs to know. 

“Whatcha going to do?” Yoongi asks.

He’s not expecting Jungkook to chuckle. “Is Yoongi asking me about my dreams?”

Yoongi grimaces but just nods as he stares at Jungkook’s hand. “If you have a dream, if you don’t have a dream, it’s okay. You can do what you want. Whatever you do, I want you to know I’m okay with it. I just want to… know about us.”

“Really?” Jungkook murmurs. It’s a quiet question. Yoongi looks over to see him staring up at the stars. His skin almost glows blue in the dim light of the night. Jungkook takes a deep breath and hums on his exhale, thinking. That’s okay. Yoongi wants him to think about this. To think about them. “I wasn’t sure if you’d… be okay with distance.”

Yoongi frowns. He thought that might happen. “I’m okay with it.”

Jungkook’s head rolls onto his shoulder to question Yoongi. His hair falls into his face, so Yoongi reaches to brush it away. Jungkook leans into his palm.

“No really, I’m okay with it.” Yoongi takes a deep breath to keep going, but the words don’t come out. Jungkook waits. He’s good at waiting for Yoongi to speak. “I’m okay with it because I know you like me. I trust that you like me. I know I’ve… put you on a pedestal. But I’m remembering I’m great, too. We’ll be fine, no matter what you want to do. I think we can deal with it. Or however we end up.”

Jungkook’s quiet. Yoongi can’t keep watching the twinkle in Jungkook’s wide eyes, so he goes back to fiddling with the fingers in his hand. When Jungkook stays quiet, even after they hear Taehyug and Jimin shrieking down the path no doubt with several sparklers in each hand, Yoongi risks a glance.

Jungkook’s not happy. He tongues at his cheek, eyes no longer twinkling but glossy with tears. “Did you just tell me I’m not that great _and_ that you’d break up with me?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot into his seafoam fringe. “What? No! I told you you’re… okay maybe I made it sound like I think you aren’t as cool as I thought but-- wait, no, don’t get mad-- I mean that I know I’m worth it now and I definitely want to be with you but that if ever something did happen to us-- no, Kook, don’t fucking cry!”

Yoongi groans and whines as his thumbs swipe over tear-stained cheeks.

“I am really confused if I should be happy about this,” Jungkook sniffs, hiding from Yoongi by rubbing his forearm over his eyes. “But I think I should tell you I’m not leaving.”

Yoongi’s fingers stop fighting the arm covering Jungkook’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah, so don’t you fucking break up with me,” Jungkook urges, but it sounds pretty pitiful especially accompanied by wet eyes and a trembling lip.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi says, still pulling his arm down. “You can’t… There are many things you can do. Don’t get trapped. Don’t stay just for me…”

“Hey, you aren’t super great either!” Jungkook shouts then bites his lip. Yoongi tries not to look shocked at that. He also just word-vomited. Jungkook raises his shoulders and drops them again, arm back around Yoongi. It’s stronger this time like he’s scared Yoongi’s going to pull away now. “I mean, it’s not just you. It’s Seokjin. It’s what I have here.”

He pauses, watching Yoongi’s face. His doe-eyes dart around Yoongi’s features. Yoongi squirms a bit, not sure if anything he tries to do might be a fuck up. So he just lets Jungkook pull him in, watching the gears turn behind his eyes as he tries to formulate his thoughts. “Hyung, I like you. I also like my older brother. He’s all I have. And I don’t, I mean I don’t know what my dream is yet. I’m good at a lot of things. I know you think I’m good at photography, but I do want a fall back like Namjoonie says. So I’m just going to the local college. I can transfer for work because my store’s got a location there, too. I’ll get a degree, I’ll make money, and I’ll be close.”

Yoongi’s body feels lighter, but he remembers Jin’s words that night on the walk home from the restaurant. “You aren’t doing this just to make any of us happy, are you?”

“I promise.” Jungkook continues when Yoongi narrows his eyes, “I’m doing what’s best for me, and what I want.”

Yoongi stares a moment longer. He looks at how Jungkook seems to harden his eyes, clenching his jaw, trying to appear serious. After a moment, he deflates, falling into Jungkook’s side.

“Okay,” he says, twisting his arm with Jungkook’s. “Okay, I’m glad because that’s--”

“SPARKLERS!” Jimin shouts behind the two, jumping straight over both their heads and splashing into the water. Hope joins after to spin in the water beside him. Yoongi wants to complain, but Jungkook is already taking a sparkler from Jin. Namjoon shakes Yoongi’s shoulder to offer one.

“Peace offering?” Namjoon asks with a tilt of the head.

“Give me that,” Yoongi grumbles, taking the sparkler and delicately stepping into the cool lake. They all dance around, the fizzing of the sparklers catching in the splashing water. Like they’re the stars in the night. When the sparklers die out, they grab more, dancing around the beach with a green haze blurring around them, beer sloshing and dousing a sparkler every now and then. They go until everything’s run out, and then go some more, all laying on the beach staring at the stars, Jungkook tucked into Yoongi’s side.

* * *

Yoongi and Hope sit in their living room with their favorite bong prepped on the table. They have the whole day off, so they cleaned all the pieces this morning and are now celebrating by getting them dirty.

A knock sounds at the door.

“I swear to god,” Yoongi groans, standing as Hope picks through his bag, “they can literally smell when we’re bout to light up from the other side of town.”

Hope giggles, too busy with his task at hand. The good friend he is, Yoongi goes to answer the door. But when he opens it, no one’s there. It’s eerie and has a cold chill trickling down his spine. He’s not quite sure why. Ding dong ditch shouldn’t feel so ominous.

He wanders back into his apartment. Hope’s building a small pile of seeds as he pulls a nug apart to put in the grinder. Yoongi remembers, then. He remembers why an unanswered door feels so ominous. Someone has played this game on them before.

“Hope,” Yoongi starts. Hope grunts, picking up another nug. His process is pretty meticulous when there’s a grinder sitting on the table, which means Hope’s trying to keep himself occupied. “No one was at the door.”

“I know, it’s happened a few times,” Hope mumbles, focusing on his handiwork. Yoongi takes the nug from his hands, placing it on the table as he sits across from him. Hope doesn’t complain, but he also won’t meet Yoongi’s gaze. He’s deflecting. Yoongi wants to talk about it, but he’s not sure what to ask.

He settles for, “That’s not a good sign.”

Hope smiles a bit, shrugging. “They know I’m still here. But it’s okay, I’m working on it.”

Yoongi frowns. He remembers the dinner where Hope hid in Jin’s car. Hope can’t fool him. They both know it’s not simply a matter of them taking note he’s still in town. “You can’t be so nonchalant about this.”

Hope’s smile is a bit weaker. He picks at a tear in the couch. “I’m not, Yoongi. I’m handling it. I have a life here, and I’m not going to give it up because someone’s threatening me.”

“They’re threatening you?” Yoongi repeats, licking his lips nervously.

Hope waves him off, way too casual. “No, no, not like before. Just like the stuff at the door.”

Yoongi leans back, not sure what to say. It’s been three years. Three years since he and Hope moved here and brought their “business” with them. Three years since they realized that there was more competition, stronger competition, who had body-slammed Hope into a car one night after a couple of threats with the very real threat to make sure he couldn’t sell in their streets if they ever saw him again. They’d taken it seriously. They stopped selling, got real jobs. Or at least, Yoongi had stopped selling and Hope had scaled back. But Hope had still managed to build up a reputation.

And he was technically still selling.

“Don’t sell at work anymore,” Yoongi orders, crossing his arms.

“Okay, Migos,” Hope jokes with a chuckle. But he still can’t look Yoongi in the eye.

“Hoseok,” Yoongi says more firmly. “Don’t be a dumbass.”

Hope looks up at that. He doesn’t say anything, eyes just move between Yoongi’s. His jaw ticks, licking his bottom lip. Hope gets back to work on the nug from before. “I’m not. I’ll be safe. I won’t sell.”

Yoongi stares a bit longer, just to see if Hope will add on a “thanks for worrying” or something, then lets it go. For now. Not selling anymore might not be enough to amend the toes they’ve already stepped on. 

As Hope fills the small bowl on the bong, Yoongi pulls his phone out of his pocket to see a text from who he originally thought was at the door.

_Kook_

_My parents arent home 😉_

Yoongi squints at his phone screen.

“Did he say something weird?” Hope asks.

Yoongi plops the phone onto his chest. “Who?”

“Jungkook.”

Yoongi looks at his phone then back at Hope. “How’d you know it was Jungkook?”

“You picked your phone up the second you got a text. And I’m right here, so it wasn’t me,” Hope shrugs. But then his eyes flick up, just anticipating the annoyed look that’s probably on Yoongi’s face right now. Well, he is right.

_Yoongi_

_You don’t live with your parents_

_Kook_

_Hyung :(((_

_itsa joke_

_Yoongi_

_I don’t get it_

The next message is an image of a girl on her phone, calling someone, and a conversation trading back and forth about parents not being home and the other person dropping everything to go over. Yoongi turns the phone to Hope. “What is this?”

Hope glances over as he picks up the bong then laughs, slapping his own knee instead of Yoongi’s thankfully. “He wants to get down.”

Yoongi grimaces at the phone screen. How does this mean he wants to get down? Is he calling Yoongi a girl?

“Poor Jungkook, dating a man of no memes,” Hope sighs before taking a hit.

_Kook_

_grandpa_

_Jins not home_

_come over_

_Yoongi_

_You could have started with that_

_Kook_

_come over!!!!_

As soon as Yoongi gets to Jungkook’s, the younger boy’s hands are immediately on him and under his shirt, pulling him close. The way he sighs into the kiss has Yoongi lightheaded as the heavy breaths of relief serve as a sure sign that he was missed. He kisses Jungkook back, deepening the kiss just to pull those soft sounds from the back of his throat as he’s guided to the bedroom.

The bed’s made, and Yoongi can’t help but smile as Jungkook falls back on the bed with Yoongi wrapped in his arms. Remember when he said that bed made him nervous? Fuck that. This might be the greatest damn place on earth.

“Uuuugh,” Jungkook groans loud, dropping his head. Yoongi tries to prop himself up, but his feet are awkwardly on the ground while most of his weight rests on top of Jungkook. Jungkook rocks them both back and forth as he continues to groan. “Uuuugh!”

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks, licking his spit-damp lips as his boyfriend rolls around.

Jungkook’s head pops up, wiggling his eyebrows. “We can be as loud as we want.”

Yoongi barks out a laugh. “Really? You suddenly gonna start shouting while I blow you?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink, hands dropping to Yoongi’s ass to roll his hips into him. “I will. Definitely. Please try it out.”

Yoongi keeps laughing and drops his head to Jungkook’s chest. “Well get to it. I’m tired of standing.”

Jungkook grunts, shuffling back and hauling Yoongi onto the bed. But instead of getting to it, they both lay on the pillow, side by side. Jungkook rests his head on his arm folded under the pillow. His eyes dart around Yoongi’s face, his green hair now fading to the bleach blond beneath. Yoongi pouts a bit, still not enjoying the scrutinized attention. But it is nice, just laying together. He reaches out and tweaks Jungkook’s cheek when he stares too long.

“Ah!” Jungkook squawks, grabbing his cheek.

“So loud,” Yoongi teases, inching closer. “Hot.”

Jungkook giggles, grabbing Yoongi’s wrist as he goes in again. He mocks the pain, eyes wide as he whines out a fake, “Ooooh nooo!”

But damn, the pitch has Yoongi’s squirming for more. “Okay. That was actually hot.”

“Is it?” Jungkook asks, eyes alighting with mischief. He starts to roll over, taking Yoongi’s wrist with him. He so easily hoists himself over Yoongi and onto his lap. A soft hmph wooshes from Yoongi’s lungs as Jungkook’s ass situates over his dick.

Oh wow. Oh man.

Jungkook pauses, apparently lost at what he was going to do next. Probably because he can feel Yoongi hard already. Sue him. Look at what’s on top of him right now. Jungkook rolls his hips, his entire waist shifting forward. Wow again. Thick thighs shift on either side of him as Jungkook does it again, lashes fluttering at the way Yoongi pushes back.

“Take your shirt off?” Yoongi requests, hands already lifting the ends of Jungkook’s shirt. He nods, eyes now soft, tugging it over the back of his head.

Wow again… again. Jungkook’s golden skin tenses under Yoongi’s light touches as he traces the lines carving Jungkook’s stomach, settling on the place where Jungkook’s waist cinches.

“Wow,” Yoongi finally says out loud, the word on repeat and vibrating through his skull. Jungkook, ever the starer, can’t handle the same treatment and ducks down to kiss Yoongi. There’s touching and teasing, sighs and gasps. Whispering names and compliments. Yoongi doesn’t hold back, loving how Jungkook remains attentive to each gasp and whimper. Jungkook’s skin is soft as Yoongi pulls him closer and closer, their hips rolling in time.

Jungkook’s hands dance under Yoongi’s shirt, but he doesn’t take it off until Yoongi’s pushing him off to peel the shirt over his head. They giggle awkwardly when he gets stuck and Jungkook pulls it the rest of the way off. Really, somehow, it’s the first time they’ve both been shirtless. Jungkook never asked Yoongi to take off more than he wanted. But now, Yoongi needs it. If he didn’t feel Jungkook’s skin against his, he might peel out of his own flesh. 

“Yoongi,” Jungkook whispers, swallowing as he takes in the man beneath him. Yoongi tries really fucking hard not to cover himself. Because Christ, the kid’s seen his dick already. But still, he can’t help how he shudders under Jungkook’s gaze. He feels cold without him close, so he drags him back in, moaning as their chests press together.

Then, Jungkook reaches for a drawer. As he mouths at Yoongi’s neck, he pulls out the lube, and his hands hook in Yoongi’s waistband, and--

“Wait, wait,” Yoongi breaks away, shoving at Jungkook’s shoulders. He knew this was coming at some point. He’d been waiting, honestly longer than he had with most relationships. Relationships that didn’t mean nearly as much as this one. He pants, shaking his head, completely unaware of just how affected he was right now. High on Jungkook. “We shouldn’t- You can’t just jump to it.”

Jungkook closes the cap back with his thumb. He doesn’t seem nearly as nervous as Yoongi about this. “Oh, did you… I thought maybe you could figure out where I was going with this.”

Yoongi’s jaw drops. He knows Jungkook lets his sex drive get to his head but that’s quite the jump. He shuffles his way back onto Jungkook’s headboard, Jungkook now on his thighs. He wets his lips, trying to calm his nerves. “We need to talk about this first. Sex needs communication.”

Jungkook twists his lips in confusion. Then, he’s folding his lips in, cheeks a deeper red than they’ve ever been with Yoongi in bed. “You thought… I wanted…” his eyes dart to the lube. Jungkook’s neck and chest burst into red splotches. As though it’s evidence at a crime scene, Jungkook drops the lube.

“You don’t?” Yoongi asks, confused.

“I do!” Jungkook rushes out as he takes Yoongi’s hands. “But not, that’s not what I was _doing_. This is the internet-thing! A handjob but with lube. You know, make it feel nicer.”

“Oh,” Yoongi feels his own face washing white at the fact that he clearly just insinuated that his cute, thoughtful, horny mess of a boyfriend was about to…

Jungkook leans in and bumps their foreheads together. He takes a deep steadying breath. THat’s a good idea. Yoongi takes one, too. Jungkook speaks, almost below a whisper, and asks, “So… you want to?”

“I do,” Yoongi nods. He does. Boy does he. He’s wanted to from the moment he let himself dream about Jungkook. It had been on his mind since they first kissed. And with everyday that he knew Jungkook, it became more than just sex. He wanted to be close, to share something with him. In a super sappy romantic bullshit way. “But let’s, you know, talk about this first.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath again, his grip tightening on Yoongi’s hands. He lets it out. “Okay.”

Yoongi clears his throat. Okay, the talk. He can do this. “Gay sex isn’t just me shoving my dick in your ass, it involves-“

“My ass?” Jungkook breaks in, pulling back with a creased forehead. Yoongi blanches. Maybe he needs to go further back than he thought.

“You do know that’s how gay sex happens, right?”

“Hyung!” Jungkook whines, covering his face with his hands. He runs fingers through his messy hair, emphasizing his distress as he grips it at the roots. “I’m not a virgin!”

Yoongi tilts his head. “What?”

“Why do you think I’m a virgin?!” Jungkook wails, falling off Yoongi’s lap to hide in a pillow.

Yoongi fumbles. “I um… I don’t know. Something just… you’re so shy and…”

“That’s because of _you_ , Hyung!” Jungkook groans into the pillow, banging a fist. “You make me like this!”

Yoongi pauses. Fucking adorable. He can’t contain his glee. “Oh, okay.”

Jungkook peaks over, his gaze accusatory. “I’m a top.”

Yoongi smirks. “Oh really?”

Jungkook jumps up on his arms to glare eye-level at Yoongi. “Why is that so funny? You’re clearly a bottom.”

“Okay first of all,” Yoongi crosses his arms. “This isn’t some hierarchy where someone’s only one way or the other. Second, I’m almost always a top.”

“Almost always?” Jungkook snickers, like this is somehow an attack to his ego. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Excuse you?” Yoongi shoves his shoulder.

“Hyung,” Jungkook complains. He grabs Yoongi by his belt loops, dragging him down the bed. Yoongi reaches out for the sheets, but Jungkook grabs his wrists, pinning them above his head as he quickly settles in between Yoongi’s legs. He rolls once, and almost on instinct, Yoongi brings his leg up to his hip. Fuck. Jungkook’s nose traces Yoongi’s, lips brushing his as he asks with determined eyes, “What about this says top?”

Yoongi stares up at a smirking Jungkook. He closes his mouth, jaw dropped in surprise. The grip on his wrists pushes him into the sheets, and the body between his legs fits so snuggly with an almost (keyword almost) roll of the hips again. Okay. Point proven. He can’t look at Jungkook, words passing quietly through his pursed lips, “That’s just because... it’s you. And it’s nice… but I didn’t think…”

Jungkook’s smirk turns into a genuine smile. “Like me.”

Yoongi blushes. “Yeah, guess we’re both exceptions for each other.”

“I wouldn’t call it an exception,” Jungkook retorts. “I call it perfect.”

Jungkook bends down, kissing Yoongi as he rolls his eyes. It’s so fucking dumb but Yoongi likes it because it came from his fucking dumb boyfriend. Jungkook’s tongue grazes over his lip, twisting with his own. Yoongi drinks in his taste, gently pulling at the grip on his wrists, wanting to touch him. Jungkook kisses along Yoongi’s jaw, sucking gently underneath his ear. “I want to fuck you.”

Yoongi’s body shivers. Fuck yes.

“Okay,” Yoongi says, breath hitching as Jungkook presses wet kisses to his collar bones. “But, we need to, you know, talk a bit more about this. And I haven’t douched or anything.”

“Of course,” Jungkook stops, releasing Yoongi and nodding his head. “This isn’t romantic.”

Yoongi scoffs. “It what?”

“It’s gotta be romantic,” Jungkook nods to himself.

“This again?” Yoongi whines.

“Yes, this again!” Jungkook reaffirms, diving in to kiss hungrily at Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi squirms at the ticklishness. He wraps his arms around Jungkook’s neck, letting him be ridiculous. He guesses it’s what makes him a good photographer. This need for a scene, a perfect moment, a memory captured on film. Jungkook wants the same in his life. And Yoongi will give it to him.

“I like that about you,” Yoongi whispers into Jungkook’s ear. Jungkook pauses his kisses, then continues with gentler pecks, rubbing along one of Yoongi’s arms reassuringly. “You cherish things.”

Jungkook groans. “Hyung, stop.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s… it’s...” Jungkook looks up again, his eyes welling a bit. “Because I’m horny and you complimenting me is too much.”

“You going to cry?” Yoongi asks, a little concerned and a little endeared. Jungkook frowns. Yoongi leans up, pushing on Jungkook’s shoulder. He easily rolls over. Yoongi hovers over Jungkook, placing a kiss to his shoulder before looking up at him again. “What’s so wrong with me saying that I like things about you?”

Jungkook breathes deep, rolling his lips in. Yoongi knows he’s trying not to smile. “What?”

“You’re teasing,” Jungkook whispers. Jungkook likes teasing. The rock in his pants proves it better than Yoongi’s memory.

“Very astute observation there. And what if I am?” Yoongi asks with a tilt of his head, running ticklish fingers over Jungkook’s ribs. His mouth parts, chest arching into the touch. 

“I, um,” Jungkook chews on his lip. He grasps at the sheets as Yoongi kisses his collarbone. Jungkook, so quick to take action, is always sheepish when he has to follow through with words. Yoongi loves it.

“That’s cute,” Yoongi says. Jungkook’s breath stutters. “You like being cute?”

“No,” Jungkook says, indignant. Those pretty red lips pucker as Yoongi ghosts fingers just above Jungkook’s pant line. His long lashes flutter, trying to stay open to watch Yoongi.

“That’s right, you like being hot,” Yoongi muses, feeling him settle into his confidence at the sight of Jungkook unraveling. 

“Do you want me to tell you you look hot?” Yoongi whispers next to Jungkook’s ear. Jungkook’s hips buck, looking for friction. Yoongi appreciates the tanned skin blushing pink over curved pecks and firm sides. 

“Your body’s fucking amazing,” Yoongi marvels, not even teasing, just stating facts. “Fucking insane.”

And it’s kind of hilarious that Jungkook’s eyes start to glisten at that. Yoongi scoots lower, ass at Jungkook’s knees. “I like that you cry,” he says more gently. He grips the edge of the pants with an open-mouthed kiss to Jungkook’s chest.

Jungkook’s head peaks up, surprised. “You do?”

Yoongi nods. He does. He really does. It makes him realize how much he’s wanted. How Jungkook can be just as lost or overwhelmed as him. “It’s cute.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at the word cute again, but he’s groaning as Yoongi palms at his erection. “I swear to god if you call my dick cute.”

“After you keep calling mine pretty?” Yoongi asks, throat a little dry as he tugs the sweats down over the tent in his pants. His cock is amazing, just like the rest of him. The perfect size, especially now that Yoongi’s thinking about getting fucked by it. He takes it in his hand, Jungkook reaching for him in response. It’s a good size, it’ll be easy. Yoongi can already imagine himself sliding down onto it, watching Jungkook’s cute little face bliss out as he--

He slurps. He’s drooling as he strokes Jungkook’s dick.

“Shit, Yoongi,” Jungkook whispers as he watches Yoongi literally salivate over his dick. Yoongi’s eyes meet Jungkook’s, whose chest heaves as he watches him. With a few more tight strokes, Jungkook’s face twitches, soft whimpers bubbling from the back of his throat. Yoongi places wet kisses to Jungkook’s ribs.

“You can be as loud as you want,” Yoongi reminds him, scooting back as he trails kisses down Jungkook’s V-line, licking at the dip of his hip bone. It’s hard to believe that someone like this wants him, that he gets to call this figure his. But it’s true. And it’s so obvious when he looks up and sees Jungkook’s glistening eyes as he threads fingers in Yoongi’s hair.

He takes Jungkook’s cock in his mouth. Jungkook groans, gripping the back of Yoongi’s head, not pulling or pushing, just feeling him there, the motion. Yoongi moans back. His skin is so soft, so firm, delicious, and he slides his tongue over the head. Jungkook chokes out another whine as he slobbers, licks, and sucks at the length, hand lazily following what his mouth can’t cover.

He’s in no rush. He doesn’t need to, not with the way Jungkook’s ready to burst before he even has his mouth on him. He’s so quick to come. He was embarrassed, but it drives Yoongi wild, only makes him more turned on that Jungkook can’t even contain himself. It’s a compliment, so Yoongi just enjoys himself.

He focuses on the head, tongue bouncing back and forth against the frenulum as his hand uses his spit to quicken his strokes. Jungkook stutters out his name, so Yoongi clamps a hand down on his hip. It’s more of an order than any real power. Jungkook could easily keep going and rut into Yoongi’s mouth. But he obeys, whimpering and fisting at the sheets. 

Jungkook cums with a long, drawn-out groan, legs twitching, hips jumping and hand curling in Yoongi’s hair. It’s salty sliding down the back of Yoongi’s throat. He hums, going and going until Jungkook’s gasping his name in a plea.

He drags Yoongi up his body, tongue immediately in his mouth. Like he’s not close enough, Jungkook pulls him into his lap, hissing as jeans sit on his softening cock. Yoongi wraps his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, cherishing the little gasps of Jungkook trying not to cry as their tongues lazily trade place.

He knows now that Jungkook needs him close after he cums. He needs to feel Yoongi there not just physically but in every sense. Yoongi wants that, too, to consume Jungkook the way he consumes him. Jungkook keeps prattling on about romantic bullshit, but for Yoongi, this intimacy is romantic as fuck. He kisses him and holds him until Jungkook’s sighing gently, palming at Yoongi like he’s ready to go again. He’ll occasionally wander, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s nose or his eyes, just to see if Jungkook nudges him back to his lips, needing more.

“You like the taste of cum, don’t you?” Yoongi asks after a soft kiss on Jungkook's nose.

Jungkook’s mouth bobs, and he scrunches his nose. “I can’t believe you just asked that.”

“That’s a yes,” Yoongi nods.

Jungkook groans, head falling to the headboard as they lazily descend back to the bed. “So, the lube handjob thing. We can still do that, right?”

* * *

They decide on next Friday. They’ll have the talk. They’ll do… it. Jungkook will be prepped for his exams and Jin will be out of the house for work. Yoongi knows Hope will be home because he’ll be with Jungkook until they meet up. 

It has Yoongi feeling giddy at the studio the day of, despite being sleepy after a morning shift. They’re filming the dance video for the song today. Jungkook even has some cool technology where they’re filming on a roof so that he can edit the sky to look like space. He rubs at his eyes, trying to focus on work and not the fact that he is most likely definitely getting laid.

By Jungkook.

Holy shit.

“You should get glasses,” a familiar, obnoxious voice says, ruining his daydreams.

Namjoon stands in the doorway in his own pair of glasses, his purple hair in disarray on his head.

“Thanks. I’ll think about it,” Yoongi grumbles, turning back to squint at his screen. The man has a point. As usual. Fucking smartass.

“So, can we talk?” Namjoon asks. When Yoongi sighs and spins the chair, Namjoon is already seated on the couch.

“Sure,” Yoongi says, though it seems the conversation has already begun. Namjoon rubs at his thighs, then his hands, then kind of stares around the studio.

“Nice art,” he nods to a graphic design piece by Taehyung, who insisted his art be displayed for inspiration. Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. This is what he wanted to talk about?

“Thanks, it’s--”

“How did you know you were gay?” Namjoon rushes out. He looks a little constipated as he tries to hold his ground. Yoongi repeats the question in his head. How did he… Oh man. Oh shit. Taehyung. A smile starts to curl up Yoongi’s cheeks.

“How did I _know_?” Yoongi asks, rubbing his chin. Namjoon nods eagerly, ready to hang on Yoongi’s every word. Nice. “Tits are weird.”

“I like tits, though.”

Yoongi almost chokes. Namjoon says it so earnestly. “So maybe you aren’t gay.”

“But I…” Namjoon trails off, looking at the painting again. Yoongi wonders if he knows Taehyung made it.

“Like dicks, too?” Yoongi finishes for him. The color drains from Namjoon’s face. He rubs at the back of his neck, laughing nervously.

“I’m not sure about that,” Namjoon grumbles. “I haven’t really seen another guy's dick except in porn so…”

“Please do not ask to see my dick,” Yoongi says, holding a hand up.

Namjoon flusters, spewing out incoherent phrases of “that’s not” “I don’t” “that’s for Jungkook” “but I’m not objectifying you” “but what about” “or no” as his hands flounder between different forms of no. Oh, this is fun. But Yoongi should put him out of his misery to get him out of his studio.

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head. “Look, I think trying to define your sexuality is a worthless endeavor. You like someone, or you don’t. You can like someone in many ways, too. That’s based on a lot more than what’s in their pants.”

Namjoon sighs heavily, staring at his hands. He nods. “That’s… it’s reassuring that you’re dating Jungkook with that mindset.”

“Well, it’s not reassuring that you want Taehyung _not_ in that mindset,” Yoongi says. Namjoon’s jaw drops like he somehow thought Yoongi didn’t know what he was talking about. “Taehyung is like my brother. My stupid, annoying little brother. Don’t fuck it up.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen, chewing on his bottom lip.

Yoongi leans forward on his knees, getting in Namjoon’s face. It’s nice to see this uncertainty on the smug bastard. “Sound familiar, _mom_?”

That does it. Namjoon’s nerves drop with the set of his eyes, clearly annoyed. “Okay, I get it.”

“Do you?” Yoongi asks as Namjoon gets up to leave. Namjoon glares as he leaves, but Yoongi calls after him, “Cause I’m going to watch your every move to make sure you’re doing well!”

He laughs as Namjoon groans, a barely audible “sorry” from the hall as he heads back to his room. He’s still chuckling when his phone buzzes, _Kook_ flashing across the screen.

Oh shit. Yoongi looks at the clock, and it’s already nearing evening. He tries to calm his jumping heart as he picks up the phone.

“Hey,” he tries to say cooly like he’s ever been cool around Jungkook.

“Emergency room,” Hope’s voice pants into the phone. There’s shuffling, thudding in the background, and more heavy breathing as someone yelps on the other end. “Jung-” a shaky inhale, “Jungkook’s stabbed. Now. Go now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't panic! I'm dropping the next chapter in the next 3 days once I finish editing it! Because I love you all and I don't want to leave you hanging... ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epiphanies are exhausting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I TOLD YOU THE WAIT WOULDN'T BE LONG! Because I love you guys :)

Yoongi bursts through the sliding door. Waiting for the goddamn sliding door of the emergency room lobby is wasted time. Every second is too much. Too long. As soon as he’s through, Yoongi barrels towards the first nurse he sees with Namjoon on his tail.

“Ma’am!” Yoongi pants, hands on his knees in front of her. “A boy, stabbed, came in and--”

“Hyungs?” Yoongi almost falls over whipping around to the right after the woman raised her arm to the left, Namjoon thankfully catching him. Jungkook sits on the floor, foot wrapped in rags elevated on a chair, Taehyung being used as a makeshift backrest. He’s breathing hard, but his face isn’t white, despite being covered in sweat and--

“Kook,” Yoongi’s throat seizes up with his heart. He walks over on wobbly knees to where Namjoon’s already kneeling, touching Jungkook’s black eye like somehow that will help.

“Stop!” Jungkook winces with a yelp. And that’s it. That’s all it takes and a sob racks Yoongi’s body. He tries to hold it back, but all three boys turn to stare as Yoongi wipes at his already dribbling nose. He reaches forward, pausing short, not sure if he can take Jungkook’s hand. 

Jungkook takes his hand. “I’m okay, Hyung. You need to-”

“Yah!” Yoongi wails, trying to glare through his blurry vision. “Are you really fucking okay? What the fuck happened? You got stabbed in the foot? How? Only you could manage that!”

Taehyung reaches out to place a hand on Yoongi’s forearm. His eyes are puffy with tears he’s finished by now. “Hyung, Hobi-Hyung.”

It takes Yoongi a moment to realize. Hope had called from Jungkook’s phone. But where is Hope? He glances at the three, a little confused, a little too overtaken by confusion and pain to figure out what was up.

Taehyung points in the same direction the nurse had earlier. Something in Yoongi’s mind keeps him from connecting the dots. Hope is over there. He needs to go say hi.

He walks over, and the nurse from before points again to the correct room. The door is cracked, and Yoongi opens it just a bit more to slink in.

Something more than rage, more than fear, washes through Yoongi. The room whirls around him as he walks towards the only occupied bed, a messy head of hair turned towards the wall, arm in a sling, shirt removed with a bandage over the right shoulder.

“Hoseo-” the words catch in Yoongi’s throat. It might really, actually close up this time as his best friend, his roommate, rolls his head over to him. His cheeks are stained with tears, but Yoongi can barely comprehend that as the purple blotches on his face round and crease as Hope tries to smile at him.

“Hey, I’m undercover, remember,” he croaks before coughing, other hand wrapping around his waist as that happy smile folds down into a jeer of pain. Yoongi can feel it, that same pain etched on Hope’s face scraping at his heart. He rushes forward, hands dancing over Hope, terrified to touch anything he can’t see. What he can see terrifies him, too.

Someone can’t do this to another person. Not a person like Hoseok. He doesn’t deserve this.

Yoongi’s knees buckle as he sees red knuckles peeking from the cast. He bares his weight on either side of the hospital bed, clenching his teeth and eyes tight as he cries over his best friend. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Hope says softly, reaching up to pat Yoongi’s head. Yoongi immediately grabs his hand and puts it back on the bed. He tries to make sure he’s comfortable, fluffing the pillow before he pets Hope instead. “I had it coming.”

“This is too much,” Yoongi’s words wobble in his throat as he reassesses the damage for the third time. It’s like he can’t imagine it’s real, that if he looks again, Hope’s cheeks won’t be lumpy with dark stains, they’ll be shining and round with his smile.

“Agreed,” Hope says, that smile trying its best. “But I didn’t follow the rules. I was supposed to leave.”

“Don’t,” Yoongi whimpers. “Don’t let them win. Don’t do anything. Don’t move. Don’t smile. Just relax. We’re going to kill those motherfuckers.”

Hope almost laughs, but it hurts too much. Yoongi is not being funny right now. He frets over Hope in silence before looking down. He’d been dancing. Dance is everything for Hope.

“Are your legs…?” Yoongi whispers.

“They’re good!” Hope tries to sound cheery. “I’ll be fine. Dance career intact, drug career not.”

Yoongi tries to muster the most disapproving glare he can with what he guesses is a red nose and puffy eyes. He continues to pat Hope’s head. The room is so dark. Hope needs light. He is light, always brightening Yoongi’s life, but he looks so dim in here.

“I’m sorry about Jungkookie,” Hope whispers. Yoongi shakes his head rapidly. Hope called to tell him about Jungkook, while he looked like this. How could someone like that deserve this?

A knock sounds on the door behind them. Jin stands in the doorway in his work clothes.

Hope loses it finally. His smile trembles, his breath catching in his throat as Jin walks over. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpers, clasping his hand over Jin’s as he lays a hand on his good shoulder. “He’s your-” he hiccups “-little brother.”

Jin shakes his head. The smile on his lips is one Yoongi’s never seen. Tight yet endearing. “We are not worrying about that right now. We are taking some pictures, okay? We’re taking a statement. And then I’m getting back to work. We prepared for this.”

“You what?” Yoongi asks.

Jin looks over at Yoongi, brows raised, then back at Hope. Hope tries to shrug, winces, and both boys try to settle him back down. “Jin’s been helping me.”

“Huh?”

“He’s helping me build a case to try and be safe from now on,” Hope clarifies, but it looks like the words hurt. Hope hadn’t told him any of this. He’d kept how serious things were getting from him. Yoongi would be furious, but he just nods, eagerly trying to get him to shut up and relax. He looks at Jin instead.

“I’m a paralegal at the DA office,” Jin reminds him. Like Yoongi actually knew this at some point. Not that Jin just had a good job and left in a suit sometimes.

“That’s, uh, that’s cool,” Yoongi says. “And you smoke weed all the time?”

Hope bursts out laughing, mingled with pained sobs. “Yoongles, if you’re gonna be that funny you have to leave.”

“Actually, can you give us a minute?” Jin asks. Yoongi stands, not sure. Jin straightens, bowing his head a bit to Yoongi. “I promise, we’ll fill you in. My brother needs you.”

Yoongi squeezes Hope’s hand one last time before returning to the lobby. Jungkook’s gone, but he sees Taehyung’s gray hair sticking out of another room. Jungkook’s belly-down on the table, propped on his elbow, getting stitches in his foot. The smell of antiseptic stings Yoongi’s nose as he closes the door behind him.

“Oh thank god,” Jungkook groans when he sees Yoongi. He just stretches his hand out, the one Taehyung isn't holding, making grabbing motions. Yoongi quickly takes it.

And almost regrets it. As the nurse digs the needle into his foot, Yoongi thinks he may need to stick around for a cast from Jungkook’s crushing grip. Jungkook’s shakey inhales and moans have a fresh round of tears coming to Yoongi’s eyes. He’s hurt. The people he loves most are both hurt.

“Kook saved Hobi-Hyung's life,” Taehyung explains over Jungkook’s groans. The nurse smiles a bit like maybe she’s already heard this story. “He got stabbed to save Hobi.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathes out in a hiss. “Real gangster- fuck- gangster shit.”

“How did you get stabbed in the foot?” Yoongi asks with a big sniff, trying to smile at Jungkook calling himself a gangster.

“I round-house KICKED-OW- a guy,” Jungkook drops his head. “It was-FUCK- it was pretty cool. But, SHIT, knife.”

“Of course you round-house kicked someone,” Yoongi rolls his eyes even though Jungkook can’t see. Taehyung giggles.

“He got Hobi-hyung off the top of the building, too,” Taehyung chimes in.

“It made his injury much worse. Don’t do that next time,” the nurse chimes in.

“No next times,” Yoongi corrects, but he smiles at the nurse. God, he probably looks terrible. 

“I don’t think so,” Jungkook says. “Jin’s gonna fuck them up with the LAW.” Jungkook slams his fist on the table. It’s funny, so Yoongi tries to laugh even though his hand and heart are being crushed.

“Where’s Jimin?” Yoongi asks to keep distracting Jungkook

“He’s coming from work,” Taehyung says, face contorting as Jungkook crushes his hand as well. “He’s going to get Kookie’s camera from the roof. And buy top-tier hospital snacks.”

“I want-” Jungkook grinds his forehead into the table as the nurse finishes up, “-banana and strawberry milk.”

Taehyung coos, bending to pat Jungkook’s cheek. “Of course, you do.”

As the nurse dabs disinfectant on Jungkook’s foot, the grip on Yoongi’s hand loosens. Yoongi squeezes Jungkook’s back twice.

“Dammit,” Jungkook groans, rolling his head over to Yoongi. His eyes are pricked with tears from the stitches, but they are creased with a smile. Even on a fucking hospital table, the sparkle still shines in his eyes. “Hyung, that was cute.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi says, squeezing Jungkook’s hand again. Taehyung tries really hard not to slap at Jungkook over the cuteness. “I’ve got to be cute since you were cool today.”

Taehyung’s jaw drops. So does Jungkook’s before he’s trying to tug Yoongi into the table. “Oh my god, you are so cute.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Yoongi tries to pull away as the nurse eyes the three of them. Jungkook just rubs his face into his t-shirt. Jungkook’s arms wrap around his waist, and Taehyung winks before he and the nurse leave. Even Taehyung’s features look stony, parted lips swollen from worried nibbling. The door closes, and only Jungkook’s unsteady breaths fill the room.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispers. “Is he okay?”

Yoongi pats his head, just like Hope. “Yeah, he’s going to be okay.”

“Is… is everything going to be okay?” Jungkook whispers even quieter. “Everyone is safe? No one’s gone?”

Yoongi looks down. Jungkook, all his muscle and height, looks so small on the table. So weak now, hiding in Yoongi T-shirt and ducking farther in as Yoongi brushes his hair away. Scared that he’s lost someone, that he wasn’t good enough to keep them.

“Yes,” Yoongi says, even though he has no idea. Because it’s what Jungkook needs to hear. And Yoongi can do this for him, be here, and mutter soft words. “Yes, Kook.”

Jungkook’s hands grip tighter, and suddenly his chest shakes. He’s crying. Yoongi relaxes, lets Jungkook pull him over the table almost, and rubs his back. Yoongi can feel tears and snot start to soak his shirt. He knows he’s crying again, too, but he holds himself together while Jungkook sobs into his shirt. He threads his fingers through his hair. In all this chaos and uncertainty, he remembers Jungkook on their first date. How he said Yoongi captivated him because of his kindness. Yoongi can do that now. He can give him his shirt as a tissue, his touches, his whole heart, his very fucking being if it’s what Jungkook needs.

He can be what Jungkook needs. 

“You did so good,” Yoongi’s words sound like marbles fill his mouth. He bends over to hug Jungkook, albeit awkwardly. Jungkook just buries his face deeper, wincing as he rolls over. Yoongi doesn’t shush him, doesn’t correct him. He just holds him. “And thank you, so, so much. Thank you for protecting Hoseok. And thank you for being okay.”

* * *

Welp, this fucking sucks.

As the next senior employee at a store staffed with retirees and ungrateful teenagers, Yoongi becomes interim manager. Responsibility he didn’t ask for. Angry customers he doesn’t want to deal with. Ridiculous, obnoxious, good-looking coworkers who pester him non-stop. He has to work more which means less time visiting his hot, heroic boyfriend and definitely not taking the bus to see Hope at his sister’s in the city. Yoongi’s even more pissed because he can tell how shitty his life is based on work, and work controlling his life is the capitalist agenda, so it’s clearly winning.

On top of that, his doped-up boyfriend won’t stop texting him cute fucking shit like how he wants to edit a collage of Yoongis “happy eyes”. Or things ten times more dangerous like a panicked message about his abs disappearing and a shot straight down his bare chest while Yoongi’s just trying to regroup in the breakroom. 

He sags onto his post at the self-checkout. Exhausting. It’s amazing how quickly things settle after a traumatic incident and life somehow goes back to a normal that’s even more annoying than the last. Jin stayed true to his word, admitting how Hope hadn’t been doing the same. The situation was worse, worse than Hope thought it would get, when the current dealer in the area, tied to issues much deeper than some 20-somethings trying to make extra cash, realized Hope hadn’t left after being ordered to. But luckily, they could actually build a case.

However, Hope wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. Basically, Yoongi is having a hard time keeping his spirits up. He needs Hope. The person and the feeling. Even though he’d been had and was now recuperating at his sister’s place, he was still Hope to everyone. It stuck and it fit. Hope was Yoongi’s motivator, like batteries he needed to survive. Without him at this shit job and in the apartment, everything sucked.

Yoongi checks his phone when it buzzes.

Okay, not everything, he might be acting a tad extreme. The exception being his dumb boyfriend sending him a picture of his best attempt at crossing his eyes. Yoongi raises his head enough to send one back.

Jungkook just sends crying emojis back. Well, he actually could be crying. These drugs have held nothing back. Jungkook is a full-time boyfriend blanket when Yoongi comes over. Jin’s started to limit his visiting hours, so Jungkook can get his studying done for his exams whenever the pain meds are wearing off. Yoongi agrees with Jin, but he can’t help how bad he wants to check on Jungkook. He wants to make sure his eye is done bruising, that he’s eating enough, that he’s not in too much pain, that he’s still the same earnest, wholesome boy he remembers.

Yoongi sighs. Insane. Jungkook managed to get stabbed at the opportune time. He has exams next week right when he’ll start weaning off the meds. He can still go in person on crutches. He’s got the summer to heal. Only Jungkook could manage to pencil in a stabbing.

And Hope, he’s a full-time employee. Curse that bastard and his medical leave, texting Yoongi about how he’s so bored not running ship back here.

Regardless of the extra hours and the lack of Hope and Kook, Yoongi’s so, so fucking grateful that things are better enough that he can now complain about this.

The day finally ends, and the store has never closed so fast. The staff really enjoys Yoongi’s “efficiency,” but Yoongi’s concerned that they like anything he’s doing. He doesn’t want them getting any ideas about him being a permanent manager.

“Hey!” Jimin and Taehyung come waltzing to the door arm in arm, one with chips and the other with beer, as Yoongi locks up.

Oh no.

“Bye,” Yoongi answers, trying to lock up faster.

“Whatcha doing tonight?” Jimin asks, following Yoongi as he starts to walk towards home.

“Busy,” Yoongi says. He hears Taehyung snicker.

“Oh really? Jungkookie’s knocked out, Namjoon’s free, what could you be busy with?” Taehyung asks, throwing an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders.

Since so much of the gang is out of commission, these two have been hanging around almost non-stop. Yoongi needs a break. “I’m doing things that definitely don’t involve the two of--”

“Too bad!” Jimin sings, skipping on ahead. “We’re here on Hope’s orders. Better start thinking of what board game you want to play!”

Yoongi sighs. Goddammit. Hope won’t let him be alone. He keeps bothering him about if he’s okay when he’s the one in a fucking cast and a purple face. Still, he doesn’t want to argue with Hope, so he just grumbles as the two drag him back to his own place.

“Help us de-stress,” Taehyung orders, plopping onto Yoongi’s couch as soon as they’re inside.

“Yeah, exams are kicking his ass,” Jimin agrees. Taehyung shoots him a look, but Jimin just takes a beer from his six-pack.

“Why me?” Yoongi complains, sitting on the couch. Once these two settle in, there’s no point kicking them out. He’ll just wait it out. Yep, definitely just wants them to leave and hasn’t missed having someone else in the apartment.

“Because it’s usually Hope’s job. He’s gone, so this is the next best bet,” Jimin says. 

Yoongi nods, holding his hand out for a beer. Fair point. What kind of world do they live in where Yoongi’s now the relief squad? At least he didn’t have to pay for snacks.

“So, how’s the release going?” Jimin asks after he and Taehyung talk by themselves for a bit.

“Well,” Yoongi says in short. It’s weird that his life continues on, the album still dropping yesterday despite everything else happening. The response, honestly, was insane. Yoongi’s listeners more than tripled. Namjoon has some rule about not saying anything the first three days after a release, and Yoongi’s enjoying the time to just watch shit happen. And wait for the money to come in. “I actually might make good money.”

“That’s good,” Taehyung says, already throwing back the end of his cider. A bit dribbles out of the corner of his mouth, down onto his chest. He’s dressed way too fancy to be getting off of work at a supermarket. He’s a conundrum. But Yoongi guesses that’s what makes him an artist and why he fascinates so many people. Like Namjoon.

Yoongi knows he shouldn’t ask. He doesn’t want to. But he can’t help it. Something like responsibility pulls in his chest. Dammit. He takes a sip of his beer, trying to be nonchalant as he asks, “Do you like Namjoon?”

“Joonie’s cute,” Taehyung says while he plops a gummy worm on his nose. After the admission, he rolls his lips in, remembering his stupid little rule about taking Yoongi’s side. He wiggles his nose, trying to catch the worm in his mouth, but it immediately falls off.

“I always thought Namjoonie and Jungkookie would be cute together,” Jimin adds, also trying to catch a gummy worm in his mouth and failing.

“Well, I’m with Jungkook, ” Yoongi says definitely not defensively, scratching at his ear. “so Namjoon’s free. He’s an okay guy. Weird, but okay. Like you.”

Taehyung hums, chewing on his gummy worm. Jimin also looks pensive, but he’s watching Taehyung closely. “Do you think we’d be double-okay or double-weird together?”

“Goddammit,” Yoongi groans. That’s the end of it, he’s not talking about this anymore. It’s too much of his dignity to play matchmaker. He snags the bag and places a gummy worm on his nose. Jimin and Taehyung laugh as he tries to get it off with his tongue, scrunching his face every which way.

“Jungkook’s asking what you’re wearing,” Taehyung giggles, snapping a picture of the three gummy worms hanging out of his mouth. “Pervert.”

“Tell him nothing,” Yoongi says, still trying to get the gummy worm off his nose.

Taehyung’s phone starts chiming. Jimin falls over laughing.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Yoongi can hear Jungkook’s voice on the phone from where he sits. He startles and the gummy worm falls off his face. He frowns.

“Oh no, you made Yoongi sad,” Taehyung tells Jungkook, pointing and laughing at Yoongi’s gummy worm. Yoongi glares at the boy who wears a smug smile as Jungkook splutters on the other end.

“Ignore him!” Yoongi shouts.

“He says he’s ignoring you,” Taehyung says into the phone. Yoongi groans, chucking the bag of gummies at Taehyung. Jimin falls out of his chair laughing so hard. Good grief. Yoongi gets out of his seat and stomps over to smother a squealing Taehyung until he gets the phone.

“Kook,” Yoongi says as he listens to a blabbering, most likely high and paranoid, Jungkook.

“Hyung, don’t be mad, I just- are you naked?” Jungkook stumbles out.

“Kook, calm down. I’m dressed. Don’t worry. Go to bed,” Yoongi says calmly as Taehyung tries to lean over his shoulder. He shoves him back so hard he falls onto Jimin on the floor.

“It’s only 9 pm,” Jungkook pouts into the phone. Yoongi can imagine his lips curling out with that tiny pinch of his eyebrows. Damn, so fucking cute.

“And? I’d love to go to bed at 9 pm,” Yoongi shrugs, now taking the phone out of the room. He leans against the wall, staring at a very abstract design of… is that chicken bones? That Taehyung convinced Hope to hang on the wall.

Yoongi hears Jungkook rollover. He’s complaining, but he’s already in bed. Jungkook stretches, making the cutest little grunt into the phone. ”My bed doesn’t even smell like you anymore.” 

“You’re creepy,” Yoongi chuckles. He takes one glance over his shoulder before whispering, “I miss you.”

Jungkook chuckles now. “Is it supposed to be a secret?”

Yoongi curls his lip. Rude. “You’re lucky you’re broken or I’d hang up right now.”

“But I have to go to bed anyways.”

“Bye,” Yoongi gets ready to shut off the phone, but he hears Jungkook shouting _nonono._

“Yoongi,” Jungkook says, voice soft. Yoongi closes his eyes. He’s dumb, he’s an idiot, but he can picture Jungkook lying in his bed, on his pillow, with the phone in his hand. He smiles. “Goodnight.”

Yoongi smiles wider. “Goodnight, Kook.”

He hangs up, puts the phone in his pocket, and walks back into the living room where two grown men roll around on the floor with gummy worms scattered about. “Can you clean up and leave?”

They both look up, bodies tangled together as they reach for their favorite flavors. “I don’t know, will you be okay if we leave?”

“I’ll be fine,” Yoongi groans, picking up a gummy worm to eat.

Jimin sits up, adjusting his hair. “That’s not ‘okay’ though. Are you going to be okay?”

Yoongi avoids his gaze. It’s dumb that his concerned expression makes him blush. No one should be worried about him. Not with the three younger boys finishing exam week and Hope recovering. “I’m okay.”

Taehyung stands up in one swoop. He wanders behind Yoongi, making him squeak when he digs his phone out of Yoongi’s back pocket. “We’re off then, tell Hobi-hyung we did a good job!”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, giving a small nod. Jimin dances over, giving him a big hug and breaking away before Yoongi can fight him. They hurry out the door calling goodnight.

They left the fucking gummy worms all over the floor.

* * *

Yoongi stares at the ceiling. A day off. He’d worked extra to let the two stooges have time off to study and take their exams. Now he has a day off. But it’s not the same with no happy, Hope-filled smoke session. He’s adjusting to the quiet house, remembering that this is his style. Easy, quiet, calm. He likes this, he reminds himself. He’s fine.

As if on cue, his phone buzzes. Hope. Like he knew Yoongi was becoming a hermit again. Oh god, a fucking video call?

Yoongi presses no to the video as he picks up. “Hey.”

“Hey!” Hope’s voice rings out, so loud that Yoongi holds the phone away. This way, it sounds like nothing’s changed. “Where’s that cute little face I love so much?”

Yoongi frowns. “No.”

“No?” Hope says. “No, you don’t have a cute little face?”

“No to facetiming,” Yoongi retorts, sitting criss-cross on the couch now. “I’m exhausted from the airheads. Stop sending them to check on me.”

“Aw, I miss you, too,” Hope teases. “Come on now. I miss our place. I have to make sure you are keeping it clean.”

With a sigh, Yoongi turns on the face cam. Hope pops right up, face dazzlingly bright despite the fading bruising. It still makes Yoongi wilt a bit to see him damaged.

“Ah, our cute little home, how I miss it,” Hope reminisces.

“We literally never have hot water,” Yoongi quips. He knows Hope’s sister’s place in the city is much nicer.

“Yes, but you are there, and our memories,” Hope smiles. Yoongi frowns to avoid smiling like an idiot. Dumb. “How are things with the beau?”

“Hope,” Yoongi says with a sigh. “You text me about these things. Why are you facetiming?”

“Because!” He whines, and Yoongi is impressed to see that he can flail with minimal pain now. “It’s different. It’s like I’m on the couch with you chatting now.”

Yoongi cocks his head. Hope must really miss him. It kind of makes his cheeks warm. “Hold on.”

He gets up, shuffling around the apartment for something sturdy. In the end, he stacks some pillows next to him, sets the phone on top, and leans over. Hope squeals with joy. He moves his own camera so that it looks like they are both lounging on the couch looking over at each other. “Oh my gosh, this is perfect.”

Hope just continues to smile for a bit. It’s nice. Yoongi already forgot about how bad he wanted to be a hermit again. After another moment, he quietly asks, “How are you?”

Hope's smile shifts into one of those sadder smiles he’s had lately, or guilty. Guilty that he let this happen. That he wasn’t more careful. “I’m healing. I’ll be good as new soon.”

Yoongi nods. He’s not sure what to say, his throat tightening up again. Being around a sensitive Jungkook is starting to influence him.

“Actually, I did have something I wanted to talk about,” Hope says. He wiggles his head around like he’s trying to see past Yoongi. “Wah, look how terrible our apartment looks.”

Yoongi snarls. He’s done his best. Before he can retort, Hope asks, “Want to find somewhere new?”

Yoongi can see his blank expression on his face on the phone screen. He wets his lips. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Hope sighs, straightening his hair before he continues. “I mean, I shouldn’t go back there. Jin’s helping me from here. I’ll be safe but there’s, you know, vengeance and other gangster shit.”

Yoongi snorts. “You’ve been talking to Jungkook.”

“Indeed I have,” Hope chuckles. “And you know, that new college he’s going to is in a nice little town.”

Yoongi doesn’t remark, but he fidgets in his little spot tucked into the couch. That may or may not have been his first thought.

“Also, it has one of our stores. In a shopping center where they actually paved the parking lot. Not too far to get to the studio, rent’s not bad in the area. It’s close to my sister who apparently is now my parole officer…”

Yoongi laughs at that. He can imagine it. Hope’s sister looks just like him, with the same authoritative spirit but less sunshine. Scarier. He glances around their place. Three years. He had people here. He had memories here. But those people are going on with their lives. He’s moving on with his. New memories are happening everyday. And he really wants to stay with Hope.

“Cool,” Yoongi says.

Hope raises his brows. “Cool? Cool that my sister is a tyrant?”

“No, you idiot,” Yoongi snaps. “Let’s move. You better get someone to help me to pack this shit.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see Jimin and Taehyung again,” Hope teases.

“I can handle it if it’s for the sake of moving away from them,” Yoongi jokes, but he’s embarrassed that the mere comment makes him at least a little sad to lose the two buffoons.

A text pops up on his screen above Hope.

_ Seokjin _

_ Hey you know what rhymes with boyfriend? _

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I gotta go. Jin’s being cryptic and shit.”

Hope giggles, his smile bright and wide as he picks up the phone. Good. Hope smiling is the best Hope. “Have fun tomorrow.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Yoongi says.

“Mhm, bye!” Hope cancels the call before Yoongi can. Rude. He pulls up Jin’s message to see two more.

_ Seokjin _

_ Babysitter _

_ Come take care of your wreck of a boyfriend. I have a business trip. _

* * *

Yoongi stares down at the bag on his bed. Pajamas. A change of clothes. Chargers. The works. He’s got everything he needs to sleepover.

But this is a boyfriend sleepover.

Should he bring… the stuff? He knows Jungkook has stuff. They haven’t done much since the accident, Jungkook’s focus has been on his grades, and Yoongi felt uncomfortable going too far while he was doped up. But he’s off meds and exams finished yesterday for Jungkook. Maybe, just in case, if he’s feeling up for it…

Yoongi throws in lube and condoms, zips the bag and trudges out of the house.

Jungkook and Jin’s home is clean as usual. It reminds Yoongi of how clean his apartment  _ should _ be. Or his apartment for now. He kicks off his Converse to join the others on the shoe rack, then waddles into the living room. Jungkook’s lounging on the couch, leg propped on the coffee table. He’s just in a Tshirt and joggers, but he looks so good laid out like that. Yoongi would fall into his lap if it weren’t for Jin scampering about as he tries to prepare things.

“Yoongi!” Jin says, sounding somewhat relieved. Jungkook bounces on the couch at the site of his boyfriend. “Okay, good, you’re here.”

“He thinks I can’t be left unsupervised,” Jungkook crosses his arms, looking all the part of an injured little kid.

“He  _ must _ be supervised because he fucking tried to get in here without crutches and fell earlier,” Jin sasses, jabbing a thumb at his brother as he grabs a jacket and a briefcase. “Oh, good, you brought a sleepover bag.”

Yoongi shuffles it to his other shoulder. Jungkook blushes, either at the fall or the mention of a sleepover. Yoongi is not blushing. Definitely not.

“Okay, you’re both adults, for the most part,” Jin puts a blazer on then shrugs it right back off. “If you need anything, text me.”

“We will be  _ fine _ ,” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back on the couch.

“I’m talking to Yoongi,” Jin says, giving him a wink. He dashes out the door, his own duffle bag in hand, and leaves the two alone.

Yoongi watches as the door closes. “You know, it’s really weird that he has, like, a real adult job. I hope he doesn’t tell those shit jokes at work.”

Jungkook laughs. “Actually, they love him for it.”

“Of course they do,” Yoongi says, shaking his head and dropping his bag. He joins Jungkook on the couch, immediately roping his arm in with his. It’s nice, the fact that he can now just be in Jungkook’s space without any worries. 

Everything is just fucking nice with Jungkook.

“Want to watch a movie?” Yoongi asks, eyeing the selection on the screen. “Like Netflix and chill?”

Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, but he glances at the screen as he picks up the remote. “We could actually watch a movie.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, the word choice throwing him off a bit. He shrugs it off and focuses on the movie list, enjoying Jungkook’s strong chest pressing against his side. He points at the screen. “This one.”

“That one?”

“You don’t like musicals?”

“I wasn’t expecting it,” Jungkook shrugs. He reaches up to scratch his nose. “I’m one hundred percent going to cry though.”

“Cute,” Yoongi chuckles. Jungkook clears his throat.  Yoongi tries to pay attention to the movie, but mostly he’s trying to stay awake. With his arm around Jungkook who’s slouched into him on the couch, he’s so comfortable it’s hard to follow all the conversation on screen. He’s been so high strung lately, worried about work, Hope, and the boy next to him. It’s been awhile since he’s been like this, just comfortable, relaxing. Recharging.

Jungkook squirms, making a small sound. Yoongi lets him readjust. Then Jungkook whines, back twisting as he buries his face in Yoongi’s neck. His hot breath sends a chill down Yoongi’s spine. A small smile plays on his lips, wondering if Jungkook is a kicker in his sleep. Maybe he’ll find out tonight

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines. At that, Yoongi tucks his chin to look at Jungkook. He’s not asleep, in fact, his eyes are wide and pleading. Yoongi pauses, caught in the twinkle before he takes in the flushed cheeks and rising chest.

Oh.

He’d been tracing his fingers across Jungkook’s stomach, absently drawing designs in the soft fabric. He’d been so focused on staying awake that he hadn’t even noticed. Yoongi scratches his fingers along Jungkook’s side and the boy yelps, twisting the other direction. Ticklish.

“Hyung, stop!” Jungkook whines again when Yoongi digs his fingers into his ribs. He grabs Yoongi’s wrist, bottom lip jutted out. It’s then Yoongi notices the tent of his sweats.

“Oh,” he swallows. It’s a sight he hasn’t seen recently. Something he’s practically craved. “I could help you with that.”

“Hyung, I’m not having you give me a handjob while watching Netflix. I’m not a kid,” Jungkook huffs, but Yoongi felt his grip tighten on his wrist. God, those hands.

“So you’re a big, bad adult now?” Yoongi teases. He starts to move towards the waistband of Jungkook’s pants. Just the thought of having Jungkook’s cock in his hand has his own filling out. But Jungkook jerks his hand back up.

“Mhm,” he nods. But his eyes are blown, most likely too scared to say much more.

“So if I turn the TV off,” Yoongi grabs the remote with a sly smile, “can I do it?”

“Oh-” Jungkook swallows, the angle clearly showing off the bob of his Adam’s apple. “Hyung, no.”

Yoongi pauses obediently, but he’s thrown off. They haven’t been alone in forever. Jungkook’s hard. “Why not?”

Jungkook blushes and rubs his head against Yoongi’s shoulder. “It, um. It’s not right. It isn’t romantic this way.”

Yoongi blanches, body folding in. “Are you serious.”

Jungkook’s cheeks blush redder and he fists at Yoongi’s shirt bashfully. He explains, “I… I don’t want to do it while I’m broken.”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi grabs his face, watching his pouty cheeks smoosh into his nose. “You cute motherfucker, I want to…” Yoongi trails off, captivated by how fucking adorable Jungkook looks like this, curled into his side, face flushed. He’s barely gotten to kiss those pink lips. “I want to… to…” Yoongi forgot what he was going to say. Kissing. He wants to kiss him.

That’s okay because Jungkook gets the message. He leans in to press his scrunched up lips to Yoongi’s. He pulls away with eyes crinkled in a smile, cheeks sliding lopsided in Yoongi’s grasp. Then he turns to snuggle into Yoongi’s arms. Yoongi frowns. That’s it?

“I want to be better,” Jungkook murmurs.

“Kook, we’ve been over this.”

“No, I mean, I mean,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, so Yoongi knows a speech is coming. “I want my foot to be better before we have sex. I want it to be the best experience, you know? Not being accommodated or giving a bad first impression or-”

“I do not want our first time to be on the couch,” Yoongi cuts him off. “If we fuck on this couch I will never be able to sit on it again without getting a boner.”

Jungkook’s big brown eyes widen a bit more, then he’s giggling. He scrunches his nose, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s. “That’s true.”

Yoongi tilts Jungkook’s chin up. His eyes are wide with earnest, his large frame somehow curled into Yoongi’s smaller side. Goddammit, so fucking cute. “Kook, you could never give me a bad first impression. Seriously. But I get it. Okay, no sex until the stitches are out.”

“Really?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi clicks his tongue. “The fuck? You think I’m going to guilt you into sex?”

Jungkook shakes his head quickly. A small smile plumps his cheeks. He holds Yoongi closer in what looks to be a super uncomfortable position. “Okay, cool.”

Yoongi sighs, reaching to turn the movie back on. That explains the weirdness earlier. Jungkook’s a weird kid in general. His libido finally caught up with Jungkook’s, but if he wants to wait, he’ll wait. And now the moment’s over, so they should just keep watching.

Jungkook cries shortly after. He sinks lower into the couch with embarrassment and despair for the main character. As the movie ends, Jungkook’s pout is evident even in his voice. “That-” he hiccups “-that wasn’t fair.”

Yoongi thumbs at the tears under Jungkook’s eyes. “Not fair?”

“You-” sniffle “-wanted to make me cry.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Yoongi laughs. “I wanted to watch this movie. You said it was fine.”

“You don’t seem like a musical person.”

“Yeah well, you didn’t seem like a crybaby, but aren’t we full of surprises.”

Jungkook sniffs again, burying his face in the crook of Yoongi’s neck. He nuzzles in again after a few more sniffles. “Ugh, I’m so lame.”

“Kind of.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines. Yoongi takes one of Jungkook’s balled fists and opens it to lace his fingers with his.

“What? This isn’t my fault.” Jungkook pouts again. Yoongi leans in to kiss the pout off his face. When he pulls back, the pout is still there, so he kisses Jungkook again. His lips are salty, slippery from the tears and snot. “Ew.”

“No, don’t stop,” Jungkook’s pout grows. “Kiss it better.”

“Oh, really?” Yoongi says, feeling as salty as the tears. “Thought there was a total sexy shit ban?”

Jungkook pouts deeper, looking away. “No, I just, I thought you wanted to…”

“Damn kid, I just want to kiss you,” Yoongi says, nose rubbing Jungkook’s. So Yoongi does. He kisses his cheeks and forehead. By the time he gets back to Jungkook’s plumped lips, Jungkook’s mouth opens immediately, leaning forward for easier access. As their lips slot together, he snakes his arm behind Yoongi, holding him closer.

Yoongi grunts, fighting against Jungkook’s needy hands. He’s going to lose his cool like this. But, he concedes when Jungkook’s tongue slides over his bottom lip, sucking lightly. The small pull is all he needs to roll over into Jungkook’s lap. His thin legs straddle Jungkook’s thick thighs. Jungkook clasps his hands behind Yoongi’s back, sighing into their kiss. Yoongi licks into his mouth and chases his tongue. When Jungkook does the same, he wraps his lips around his tongue and sucks.

“Uuuuug-” Jungkook’s mumbled swear gurgles up from his throat. Yoongi chuckles. He looks ridiculous, red eyes under hooded lids, swollen nose above kiss-bitten lips. “Can you make dinner?”

Yoongi throws his head back. He thought he’d convinced him to at least do  _ something _ . He just wants to feel close again, to hear Jungkook purring instead of remembering the way he cried so hard in the emergency room. He shakes off the thoughts. “What do you want?”

Jungkook lights up, not expecting Yoongi to agree. Fuck, it’s so cute. Yoongi prepares to make anything for him. “Nutella sandwiches!”

Yoongi’s nose scrunches at the thought. “That’s what you want?”

Jungkook nods, releasing his grip on Yoongi, so he can get to work. With a sigh, Yoongi stands and heads to the kitchen, adjusting his boner. Jungkook gets up, hopping on one leg to follow him into the kitchen. He sits on the counter and tells Yoongi where everything is.

“This definitely seems like something you could do on your own,” Yoongi comments, still slicing a banana to add at least something healthy to the sandwiches.

Jungkook smiles big and sheepish. “But now you’re making me dinner.”

“Ah,” Yoongi hums, smiling as he spreads the Nutella. “Will I have to feed you, too?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, so Yoongi glances up as he puts the sandwich together. He’s chewing on his bottom lip hard. “That would be cool.”

Yoongi laughs at his big muscle baby of a boyfriend. “Just like me.”

He finishes the sandwiches in silence while Jungkook swings his good leg back and forth. Against Yoongi’s dignity, he does feed his boyfriend, tearing off bites to pop into his mouth. As Jungkook’s lips keep grazing his fingertips, he can’t help but pull him into a chocolate-soaked kiss.

It’s domestic as fuck and screw him if he loves it.

They settle back on the couch for a bit, reviewing articles and updates about Namjoon and Yoongi’s album. Jungkook laughs at reading Yoongi and Namjoon’s stage names over and over again, feeling like a VIP again for having the inside scoop. Yoongi tries not to sink into the couch under all the praise or be too torn up that the music video for their trio-song will never be finished.

Eventually, it’s too late at night. They light up, hoping the buzz will help Jungkook sleep better. He has to sleep on his back, but he’s used to sleeping on his side. Apparently it is Jungkook’s number one issue with the whole foot-being-stabbed ordeal. Typical.

Yoongi flops down in his pajama shorts, scooting to the middle of the bed. Jungkook sits on the edge, oddly hesitant.

“Hey,” Yoongi says with his head propped up. He pats the bed next to him. Jungkook cautiously lies beside Yoongi. It’s kind of funny since Jungkook is usually so swift to instigate things in this very bed. Now he won’t even get in it without permission. So Yoongi flops over, leg wrapping around Jungkook’s stiff-as-a-board position. Jungkook actually squeaks.

“What is wrong with you?” Yoongi asks, peaking up in the dim light. “You aren’t even sniffing my head like a weirdo.”

“I, um,” Jungkook clears his throat. “I imagined you sleeping over for very different reasons.”

Yoongi chuckles. Babysitting his broken boyfriend was also not how he imagined his first night with Jungkook. “And?”

“Well,” Jungkook reaches down to pat Yoongi's leg over his waist. His bare leg. A move that didn’t seem so risky before but now has Yoongi squirming. “It’s, um, hard to think about anything else.”

“Well, you don’t have to try and not think about it,” Yoongi tries again. But Jungkook shakes his head, determined not to be anything less than what he considers the best. Cute yet annoying. Just like Jungkook.

“Can you distract me?” Jungkook asks, looking over at Yoongi. The pleading expression on his face, knowing it’s because Jungkook’s trying  _ not _ to get laid, has Yoongi bursting out laughing.

“God, you’re a mess,” Yoongi says, unable to contain himself.

Jungkook’s chest rises and falls as he scrambles to cover Yoongi’s smiling face, palm pressing to his gums. “You are seriously not helping.”

Yoongi cocks an eyebrow, hot breath panting back on his face. He licks Jungkook’s hand, and the other tightens on his thigh. Jungkook sits up. “Alright, I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“No,” Yoongi groans, wrapping both arms around Jungkook. “Please, cuddles are so nice, they are so easy.”

“Easy for you. You have your sex drive in check 24/7,” Jungkook crosses his arms as he lays back down.

Yoongi gawks up at him. “Are you serious?” Jungkook nods. “Jungkook, I had to buy compression shorts just because of your tank tops.”

Jungkook looks amused but says nothing. He seems to be considering this new bit of information. They sit there in silence, Jungkook on his back with Yoongi curled against him. He already feels drowsy. It surprises him. He’d expected to be hyped up and on edge getting to spend the night with Jungkook. Maybe it’s because he’s the one cuddling Jungkook.

“This is different,” Yoongi comments with a yawn. “I’m the boyfriend blanket.”

“You’re a what?” Jungkook asks. Dammit, Yoongi’s doing it again. Saying shit out loud.

“I, um,” Yoongi shrugs. “I kind of think of you as a boyfriend blanket? You just, you know, lay all over me and keep me warm like a blanket.”

“Fuck it.”

“Wha-” Before Yoongi can finish, Jungkook hooks his elbow behind his head, pressing him in for a kiss. Yoongi sighs. Fucking finally.

He kisses back, hand trailing up Jungkook’s side to wrap around his neck. As he goes, Jungkook’s body leans into his touch, curling up the bed. No matter what he’s preaching, his body gives away how bad he wants him. Yoongi scoots in closer, pressed firm against Jungkook’s side, licking into his mouth, unable to stop himself from thrusting just the slightest bit when Jungkook moans into his mouth.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook pleads, but Yoongi has no idea what for. He knows he fucking loves it though. He rolls his hips again, hooking his leg around Jungkook’s thighs, the friction teasing against the pressure. “No, wait, actually, I, we need to--”

Yoongi pulls back. Jungkook’s expression is torn, and Yoongi realizes he might have misinterpreted that conversation earlier. He places his hand on Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook places his hand on top. Yoongi searches his soft eyes. “Can’t we still do what we’ve already done?”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, he just chews on his lip.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi starts, feeling his cheeks getting hot. Does he really have to say this out loud? “I just... I want to touch you. I want to blow you. Really, really bad.”

Jungkook’s blown eyes stretch wide, but his grip on Yoongi loosens. He turns to the ceiling and sighs deeply. “Hyung, I… I can’t do anything for you.”

Yoongi scoffs, genuinely annoyed. “Is that what this is about? You can’t do what? Jungkook. I am lying in your fucking bed right now. Getting cuddles and shit.”

“But I mean!” Jungkook starts. “I mean, I can’t, you know, if I did you, it would be, like, an awkward handjob.”

Yoongi groans, rolling on top of Jungkook to get a good look at him. This cute ass motherfucker always wanting to give 100 percent.

“You’re a dumbass,” Yoongi states, staring down at Jungkook. He smooths his hands over his chest and Jungkook takes them in his own again, closing his eyes. This big dumbass. That’s the hang-up here? “Where does it say we both have to cum?”

That catches Jungkook off guard. Yoongi grips Jungkook’s hips and scoots back. “Do you, Jungkook, want me to-” god, he’s really about to ask this “-suck your dick?”

Jungkook chokes, but he gives a small nod.

“That’s settled. That’s all it takes. I’m going to suck your dick because I really want to. For you. And then we are going to fucking cuddle. Got it?”

Jungkook wets his lips. He looks like he really can’t handle the unequal exchange.

“Look,” Yoongi starts again. “Relationships. Us. It’s not all an equal give and take. You fucking got stabbed for Hope. What have I done for you and Jin? And you… you make my life not shit. So let me do this. I  _ want  _ to. I want to do this for you. But only if you want me to. And not with anything added on, just if you want me to,I want to do this for you. ”

Jungkook stares up at him with eyes so soft, so filled with fondness that Yoongi has a hard time holding his gaze. Finally, he whispers, “Okay.”

As he shuffles down Jungkook’s waist, gingerly trying to avoid putting pressure on his bad leg, Yoongi once again is struck by the situation he is in. Something in his reasoning, however ridiculous, makes the room feel stuffier. The rustling of the sheets louder. Never did he think he’d be going down on someone this hot. On someone who liked him this much. On Jungkook.

Never did he think he’d be actually achieving his dream of being a producer. That he’d have friends willing to literally sacrifice their lives for each other. A best friend that would set up a support system for him. Never did Yoongi think that, even when shit is going wrong, that things will be okay.

“Hey, um,” Yoongi whispers, hands smoothing over Jungkook’s hips.

The boy’s head pops up, his body rolling up effortlessly, abs tensed and cheeks flushed. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Yoongi mutters, Jungkook’s dick in his fist, face resting on his thigh.

“Did you want to do it that bad?” Jungkook asks, hands fisting in the sheets.

“No,” Yoongi chuckles. “Just, you know. Thank you. For- for being in my life.”

Jungkook shudders. Like Yoongi’s mere words are more euphoric than the pleasure he physically gives him. His hands reach for Yoongi. “Come here.”

Yoongi shuffles up on his elbow, shifting onto his side to be level with Jungkook. Jungkook sneaks an arm under his waist, holding him close, burying into Yoongi’s neck as he strokes him slowly. He whimpers tongue lapping at Yoongi’s throat every now and then. Yoongi twists his wrist and changes pace just to hear the different sounds Jungkook makes.

“I like you,” Jungkook murmurs into Yoongi’s collarbone. His hips buck when Yoongi’s grip tightens. He preens at Yoongi’s touches, already so close. Yoongi gazes down at him between kisses, how he’s already unraveling and breaking apart. Always so quick, so easily worked up. Because of him. “A lot. So much.”

“I l-,” the word catches in Yoongi’s throat. His hand slows as he fathoms the word that was about to come out of his mouth. It wasn’t going to be “like.” Jungkook whines, shuffling his hips closer to Yoongi, soft features scrunched in pleasure, little pants falling from his parted lips. It’s endearing. Everything about Jungkook endears him. Fucking takes over his thoughts, even the dumb annoying shit isn’t annoying when he does it. Cute shit becomes infinitely cuter. And Jungkook doesn’t find Yoongi annoying either. His grumpiness, his lack of words are all fine with Jungkook. Jungkook likes him for him. And Yoongi, he… He loves Hope, he loves his parents and Holly, but to say it to Jungkook… Never, never has Yoongi felt something like this for a partner. Like nothing he could give would show his affection to the point that he feels he needs to hold back or he might combust. 

He can’t say it. Not yet. He wants to be sure. He wants to know that he needs to say it so fucking bad that his throat won’t close up like a fucking wimp. Jungkook deserves that. Yoongi places a kiss to the crown of Jungkook’s head, ignoring the ache in his arm from this position, just to have Jungkook close, touching his skin, there. “Me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one chapter left and I'mma ugly cry when this ends Also, if you follow me on Tumblr at Joopiterjoon, you can see the playlist and the inspo for this series :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two idiots finally take the leap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end, my friends

Yoongi rolls over in bed, legs tangled in the layers of sheets. He yawns, keeping his eyes closed. He stretches with eyes closed. He sits up, eyes still closed. Finally, stretching his arms over his head, he counts to three and opens his eyes.

Just boxes. Boxes at the foot of his bed, boxes to the side, boxes by his door.

He grimaces, slipping out of bed. Sleeping over at Jungkook’s had been a bad idea. Because now every time he wakes up, his dumbass brain tricks him into thinking he’s there still. There, where sheets are too thin and a body crushes him into the side of a bed that smells like both of them now. He thinks he’ll open his eyes to see cute lips crinkled by the press of the pillow. If he’s still in Jungkook’s bed, he can convince him again to stay in bed til noon. That in the grogginess of sleep, they can say stupid shit and talk about stupid shit and eventually do stupid shit like Jungkook taking photos of him hiding in the pillow.

But when he opens his eyes, Jungkook’s not there. No one’s there. It’s just him and his morning wood. Hard from just the thought of waking up next to his boyfriend.

It’s been four damn days and it still happens. Weak as fuck.

Yoongi moves between boxes, heading into the kitchen. Jimin and Taehyung had been over a lot to help box stuff up after their exams finished. But today, Yoongi’s heading to their place before the graduation ceremony.

He stares at the coffee maker while it brews, smacking at the taste of sleep still in his mouth. Jungkook’s graduating today. He’s going to have a degree more than Yoongi. He’s going to go to college. Yoongi’s going to move two towns over (Hope’s sister already found them a place). Jimin and Taehyung are staying here, happy to take the furniture that he’ll leave behind. Namjoon’s staying here, too, of course. So is, dare he call it, _his_ studio.

They’re all doing something different. And yet, they’ll all stay connected. It’s weird. Yoongi glances around at the same things that will now be somewhere new. Things moving forward but some things still the same. He and Jungkook together but somewhere new.

Around this time last year, Jungkook had been that hot little shit who thought he was clever sneaking alcohol with his brother. Now he’s the hot little shit that’s Yoongi’s boyfriend.

“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans out loud to himself. He yanks the coffee pot out before it finishes to fill his cup. He’s become a sentimental bastard. He takes a burning sip of coffee to wake himself from his dreamy thoughts.

But he only feels like more of a sentimental shit when he snatches Jungkook’s present, wrapped in a small box, off the table as he heads out to Taehyung and Jimin’s place.

“It looks like the Pride parade threw up in here,” Yoongi calls out once he’s inside. Not that it’s any surprise, but Taehyung and Jimin went all out. Rainbow streamers, rainbow balloons, fucking rainbow everything covers the place. Shit, Yoongi’seven got rainbow glitter on his shoes now. That explains why the party section was straight wiped out last night.

“Yoongi!” Taehyung calls, running into the hall in his robe. Jimin trots after, cackling as he tries to fix his hair under the cap. Taehyung tosses a handful of rainbow confetti as the two spin around in circles under it, acting like someone else had thrown it upon them. “We have no school colors. So I went with all of them! Come, get dressed!”

Yoongi blushes, shrugging off his flannel. Taehyung and Jimin take either of his arms, dragging him to the Taehyung’s room as he tries to look as displeased as possible to hide his nervousness. He’d asked Taehyung to figure out what he should wear. It’s a big day for Jungkook and these two idiots, so they are all dressing up. Problem is, Yoongi doesn’t have dress-up clothes. So, he bit the bullet and asked the thrift king for help.

The bedroom is more like a closet. Taehyung could have his own thrift store in here. As Yoongi glances at the racks that line the walls, he even recognizes some of the regular pieces the two boys wear between furs and silks and… fuck, is that spandex? Yoongi shouldn’t have asked them.

The actual closet space holds what appears to be only shoes. It’s a contrast to Hope’s closet which looks like six different department stores threw up inside even after he packed for his sister’s place. The last time he had help getting dressed, he and Jungkook had gone on their first date. He hopes it isn’t weird to have someone dress him again. That day he specifically said they should be themselves but,... he just wants to look good for Jungkook next to Jungkook.

And damn, he does look good.

“Holy shit, Tae,” Yoongi marvels, twisting this way and that in Taehyung’s trifold mirror. Thank fuck Taehyung had taken this seriously. He’s dressed in all black, fitting for both him and Jungkook. The slacks and blazer fit just right, which might explain why Taehyung’s been practically feeling him up lately. The material is light, good for the summer months, and the red tie is deep enough that it doesn’t make him look like a walking Christmas advertisement with his mint-green hair.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Taehyung sighs, sounding like he’s agitated that Yoongi thinks this is the final product. He digs through a drawer and pulls out some Ray-Ban glasses. “Put these on.”

“I’m not some hipster wearing fake glasses,” Yoongi mutters, still taking them. Namjoon mentioned he needed glasses, and shit, Yoongi did. Might as well take advantage of the chance to see how it looks. He shakes his hair out before propping them on his nose.

“Jungkook’s gonna nut,” Jimin says with a nod. Yoongi lips twist in disgust, but he kind of thinks he might, too. Yoongi looks really good.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Yoongi swats at Tae as he tries to work mousse into his hair. Taehyung pouts, but immediately seems preoccupied as he scurries out of the bedroom, muttering about his own hair. Jimin stays on the bed, eyeing Yoongi, who scratches at his nose absently and readjusts the dress shirt underneath.

“You know,” Jimin says, standing. “You are pretty good looking, Hyung. And you’re a good Hyung. And I’m going to miss you.”

Yoongi backs up. It’s not what he was expecting. He’s not sure how to handle it. He tries to stand tall, rolling his shoulders. Jimin stands there, hands in his slacks, and Yoongi can see the debate over a hug in his eyes. He has to act fast. “Shut up, you’re the one graduating. You did great. You’ll do great. You look great. Get out.”

Jimin goes for it anyway, grabbing onto Yoongi as he shoves them both into the living room. “Thank you, Hyung.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” Yoongi grumbles as he tugs at the boy’s arms around him. Taehyung reappears, looking exactly the same but apparently more satisfied. As they walk to the door, Yoongi reaches for his flannel to try and discreetly grab the small box in the pocket.

Keyword: try.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung inhales, almost falling over the door trim and off the balcony. Yoongi kind of wishes he would now. “Oh my god.” Taehyug rushes up to Yoongi again. Yoongi shoves the package in his breast pocket and curls in on himself to avoid any grabby hands. “Is that, Yoongi, are you proposing?”

The color leaves Yoongi’s face. “The fuck? No!”

Before Yoongi can go off, Taehyung whirls to Jimin who’s finally gotten his hair just right under his cap before Taehyung shakes him so hard that all his work goes to waste. “Yoongi’s going to propose!”

“No, he’s not!” Yoongi and Jimin shout at the same time. Yoongi doubles back, shocked that Jimin took his side.

“For goodness sake, Tae,” Jimin picks his cap up and dusts it off, full lips pouting. “Yoongi’s not the kind to propose. It would definitely be Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s mouth hangs open, puppy-dog eyes brimming with disappointment. Yoongi just walks out the door, cheeks red as his tie. He takes the little package out and twists it in his fingers. Taehyung’s a fucking idiot. And fuck Jimin. He’s right. It would be Jungkook. He’s the romantic one. Yoongi clutches the package tighter. Yoongi can be romantic, too. He’ll try his best.

His best to just fucking breathe as he stands in front of the auditorium, watching his boyfriend exit Jin’s truck. Holy. Fucking. Shit. Yoongi should have worn the goddamn compression shorts. And maybe not a suit in the summer heat. Did his tie just get tighter?

Jungkook hobbles out in a suit, the shoulders almost tearing against his shoulders as he reaches into the backseat for his crutches. Even with his outfit rucked up under the crutches, he looks flawless. The crumpling of the jacket just shows off how trim his waist is in the matching grey dress pants, the flex of his good leg noticeable even in the loose fabric. And just to really fuck Yoongi up, he’s cut his hair, styled out of his face. His strong eyebrows arch into soft eyes that flit around the crowd.

Yoongi might need crutches, too.

As he walks forward, Jungkook spots Taehyung and Jimin jumping up and down on Yoongi’s shoulders. And once his eyes zero in on Yoongi, one crutch scuffs the ground, the boy almost barreling into the other three.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook yelps, standing straight again. He clears his throat, blinking a few times. Yoongi ruffles the back of his hair before he straightens the lapel of the jacket. He can’t help but smile at how at a loss for words Jungkook is. But hell, he also can’t even greet him. They both take turns just giving each other the up-down and bashfully looking away. Well, Yoongi’s having a hard time staying focused. Jungkook won’t stop looking like he’s fucking Yoongi with his eyes. Damn, it’s really hot out.

“Okay, okay,” Jin says as he and Namjoon trail behind, camera and robe in hand. “He’s seen the outfit, you broke him, now put the robe on.”

Jungkook snaps out of it, snatching the robe from his brother. “Shut the fuck up!”

Jin laughs, nudging Yoongi closer to Jungkook. Yoongi glad steps up to his boyfriend, taking the chance to fit his grip around that small waist. “Okay, let’s take a photo of the one time you both showered.”

Yoongi grimaces as the picture snaps. It’s hard to feel anything other but nervous and horny right now. But when Jungkook leans in lower, his giggles bubbling up from the back of his throat at the thought of him and Yoongi all dressed up, Yoongi cracks a big smile, looking over at his dazzling yet crippled boyfriend.

“You look amazing,” Yoongi murmurs, pressing his nose into Jungkook’s temple. “And I’m proud of you.”

Jungkook’s giggling abruptly stops, and Yoongi hopes Jin catches the surprised look on his face. That is, before their heads slam together from Jimin and Taehyung tackling them both, shouting out catchphrases and throwing up different hand signs. Jin just keeps snapping photos, eventually turning the camera for selfie mode on the gang. 

“Wow, taking photos without me, huh?” Yoongi doubles around, almost knocking Jungkook over, at the sound of Hope’s voice. He doesn’t even recognize him. As the one who usually always dresses the best, Hope seems strange in just jeans, a Tshirt, and a sling. Large, thick-rimmed white glasses cover most of his face, but they can’t hide Hope’s heart-shaped smile. Yoongi tumbles into his best friend before the other boys and demands a photo with him.

“Did I or did I not tell you to wait til we got back to the house?” Jin groans, hands on his hips.

Hope smiles guiltily, pausing his fawning over just how cute Yoongi looks all dressed up. “Ah, well, I’m in disguise.”

“This is a disguise?” Jin scoffs, shoving the camera into Namjoon’s hands.

“It is the most toned-down I’ve ever seen him,” Jimin comments as he rubs his chin. Taehyung nods in agreement. Namjoon seems to be nodding just because Taehyung is nodding.

“Good grief, fine, whatever,” Jin wraps his arms around the two and calls Namjoon over for a “proud parents” photo. After every possible combination of photos is taken, the announcements start to go off. The older boys shoo the younger ones towards the entrance. Jungkook squeezes Yoongi’s hand one more time, giving him an excited smile. Yoongi just nods, still a little stunned at how great he looks. 

The auditorium is slammed with people and about 500 different types of perfumes. They shuffle in between bodies while Namjoon leads them to a row of bleachers based on Taehyung and Jimin’s knowledge of the seating arrangements. Yoongi latches onto Hope’s hand in the crowd. Screw him if he just wants to have a little reminder that Hope really is here.

As they take a seat still hand in hand, Hope slaps Yoongi’s shoulder when he keeps cautiously glancing around the stands for any unwanted faces. “We’re fine, Yoongles.”

Yoongi glares at Hope but lets it go. That’s not what today is about. Today is about three little black caps sitting on the gym floor.

Yoongi never attended a graduation, not even his own in high school. Even so, he doesn’t think any of those could have compared to the experience of watching three little shits that he loved walking across the stage. He wouldn’t have shouted and hollered with his friends at each of their names. He wouldn’t have been begging to get out of his chair to run and greet them as soon as things were over. He definitely wouldn’t have spent most of his graduation half hard just from the glances his boyfriend kept throwing over his shoulder.

As the hats are tossed, the boys become lost in the blur of cheering and searching for friends and family.

“Shit, I didn’t decide a meeting point,” Jin groans, still sniffing from when he started crying a half-hour ago.

“Do you think we’ll be able to find them? Jimin’s hair is bright pink right now anyways,” Namjoon suggests as he rubs Jin’s back again.

“So are half the bubblegum hipsters on that floor,” Yoongi argues.

But it’s easier to find them than expected. Because as others rush out to find people at the same meeting spots everyone picked, the kids remain on the floor. Among the confetti, Jimin and Taehyung have one crutch in each hand as Jungkook grabs onto a chair to flail about along with them, cheering and hollering as they dance around.

“Fucking idiots,” Yoongi shakes his head with a smile.

“Our idiots,” Jin adds, throwing an arm over his and Namjoon’s shoulders. “Wow, college-degree toting idiots.”

“When you say it like that, it’s a bit concerning,” Yoongi snickers.

“Oh shit, they’re on the move,” Hope shouts, pushing past the others to follow. Jimin and Taehyung started to prance down the aisle, waving Jungkook’s crutches in a taunt. Jungkook reaches out, but they keep dodging back, waving the crutches in his face. The taunt quickly turns into an all-out sprint as Jungkook makes everyone aware that his foot is almost healed, stomping down the aisle after the two thieves who are just as shocked to see him walking.

Everyone laughs, but Yoongi swallows dryly. Jungkook’s foot is almost healed. His hand absently drifts back to the package in his pocket. He’s got to do it before they “ _do”_ it.

Because of the shenanigans, the crowd’s cleared quite a bit by the time they’re back in the early summer heat. It’s easy for them to cram into Jin’s truck and Hope’s borrowed car. Everyone’s laughing and cheering and commenting on weird names from graduation, but Yoongi’s just smiling with Jungkook next to him. They’re all distracted. He could do it now. Just easily slip the gift in Jungkook’s lap and whisper the words in his ear.

But then Jin’s making fun of how much time Jungkook spent getting ready, and Jungkook’s practically launching into the front seat to argue with him. Another time.

But Yoongi kind of wants to get this over with. He has half a mind to just shove the gift in Jungkook’s hands and run out of the house. It’s brought to his attention again when Namjoon takes him aside from the screaming and Taehyung gets doused in Smirnoff as soon as they walk in the door to give him a check. He couldn’t be at this point or even have something for Jungkook if it weren’t for this smart ass rapper and his collabs. And he met Namjoon through Jungkook and Jin. 

Jungkook’s everywhere. He’s in each part of his life. But he just can’t seem to get JUngkook alone. He tries. He really tries to get Jungkook alone. But the only time so far is when they trade places outside the bathroom so Yoongi can change out of his suit and back into comfortable clothes. But that’s not romantic: in front of a bathroom.

But apparently it’s a sexy-enough place for Jungkook. As soon as he opens the door and sees Yoongi there, he drags him in by the waist, kissing him hard. Yoongi’s a bit more gentle, worried about Jungkook standing on his healing foot. But damn, he’s missed this. He can’t help if he’s already licking into Jungkook’s mouth to pull him under. Nevertheless, when Jungkook’s hands wander up his waist, heading towards his breast pocket, Yoongi wills himself to pull back. He might be chickening out. He’s also not doing this in Jimin’s bathroom.

“You look so hot in this, Hyung,” Jungkook murmurs against his mouth, still not letting Yoongi go. Yoongi blushes. “So hot in black.”

Yoongi has half a mind to stay in the suit now. “Yeah?”

“Totally,” Jungkook nods quickly. His bare forearms showing from his rolled-up sleeves flex under Yoongi’s grip as he tugs him back. He kisses Yoongi again, tongue behind his teeth and hands on his tie. “God, it’s hot.”

Yoongi whimpers as Jungkook pushes him flush to him. He can probably feel the awkward shape in Yoongi’s jacket, but he can’t pull away now. Not when he gets his hands on Jungkook’s ass, pushing him back into the bathroom sink. He glances up and sees his own dark eyes in the mirror and hands grabbing at Jungkook’s back.

“Oh shit,” Yoongi ducks, hiding from his own reflection. And the amazing view of Jungkook’s ass propped on the bathroom counter.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks, kissing at Yoongi’s cheek in an attempt to get his lips back. Yoongi stands, breathing in deep as he takes in the disheveled Jungkook before him. God, he could fuck him right here.

“We should get back,” Yoongi can’t hide the disappointment in his own voice. “Christ, this is Jimin’s bathroom for shit’s sake.”

Jungkook cocks his head, but then he giggles. He straightens with pink cheeks. “I had to do that while you still looked like…” Jungkook’s eyes wander one last time “that.”

They’re both blushing now as Jungkook excuses himself to let Yoongi change. Yoongi shrugs off his jacket, making sure to transfer the gift that Jungkook must have felt into his flannel again. Jungkook wants, and deserves, fucking romantic. At least as romantic as Yoongi can get. So he’ll keep waiting for the right moment. Plus, there’s no alone time with Hope bellowing out commands for everyone to come into the balloon-filled kitchen.

“What are these?” Yoongi asks, holding up the see-through solo cup and its jiggling brown sludge once they’re all in the small kitchen. He’s even more concerned when Hope’s frown dips past his chin after a sniff.

“They’re fucked up jello-shots!” Taehyung sings, shoving one in everyone’s hand as he steps between rainbow balloons. As a demonstration, he tries to fit the entire contents of the 16-ounce cup into his mouth at once. He does. Namjoon’s knees buckle. “We fucked up the coloring, but it’s still sugar and alcohol.”

“Is this safe?” Yoongi whispers to Jungkook.

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook whispers back. “The amount of alcohol they put in will kill whatever danger there is.”

“Wait!” Jimin shouts, and everyone’s cups pause halfway to their faces. Namjoon dodges as half his drink smacks the floor with a strange sound. “We have to toast!”

Oh. This is it. Yoongi can say it now. He glances around, everyone waiting for Jimin to start. No, shit. He can’t. He can’t do it in front of all these people. He’ll chicken out.

“Taehyung and I bought this house, and we are glad we get to share it with you guys,” Jimin sniffs, waving his sludge around, “especially this last hoorah. We didn’t expect all of our friends to leave so soon, but we are all adventuring into our futures, together in some way.”

“What am I then, not a friend?” Jin breaks in. “I’m still here!”

“You were the one who said we weren’t your friends, first!” Taehyung argues.

“I mean, you’re not!” Jin backtracks. He points at them as he rattles off, “That one is now my worst client, he’s my brother, he betrayed me and started dating my brother, that one… okay, Namjoon you’re okay, and you two, you’re mostly the kids I babysit!”

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon interrupts, looking too cheery at being the number one friend. He holds his cup out and pushes the brim of his glasses up. “They have a point. Let’s toast. Everyone’s achieved a lot of great things this year, but we are here to celebrate the three of you getting a degree. It’s a door opened to many opportunities. I hope you go forth and seek them. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” Everyone shouts, even Yoongi who is a bit begrudged to cheers to such high praise for an optional degree. And then, they all practically vomit as what tastes like sugar-soaked bleach congeals in their mouths.

“Save me,” Jungkook barely breathes, taking off for the bathroom again. Jin and Yoongi manage to swallow down the muck, quickly finding a bag of chips to cover the taste. Namjoon sinks to the floor while Jimin and Taehyung take turns refusing to admit how bad it really is while they gargle sink water.

“Okay then,” Hope says, delicately setting down his drink that he did not try to take in one go. He reaches into his bag and pulls out the fattest ziplock of weed Yoongi’s seen in months. “I’ve got the real party favors, let’s get to it.”

“You did not seriously come into territory you’ve been explicitly told not to enter with the very reason you were told to stay away for,” Jin says disapprovingly, even though he grabs the bag and heads for his stash box.

It is some dank shit. Everyone’s laid about within 20 minutes, cross-buzzed from the terrifying party drink and Jin’s trusty new bong. Which still is ridiculous, seeing as he was scolding Hope minutes before.

As the sun sets, the Christmas lights cast colors across the ceiling with the fading light from the windows. Everyone’s chattering off and on, making comments that burst everyone into fits of laughter whether it’s funny or not.

“It looks like space in here,” Jungkook murmurs, splayed out on the floor next to Yoongi. He holds his finger up and traces in circles like he’s pointing to constellations.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Taehyung shouts, each word emphasized with a solid thwack to Jin’s back. “Let’s play the song! The pluto song!”

“Ah, come on,” Yoongi gripes, rubbing at his thighs as he sits up. “It’s fine.”

“We have everyone here!” Taehyung whines. He’s already picking up the phone connected to the aux cord. “Y’all can do it live, and Hope can dance.”

Hope’s interested, doing the robot until he’s standing again. Namjoon shrugs as Yoongi catches his eye, so he pats Jungkook’s thigh to get him upright again.

Jimin rushes in to shove whisks into each of the three’s hands as makeshift microphones, bouncing on his heels with the others while they stand in front of the TV. It’s fucking dumb, but Yoongi loves it. Hope’s doing something ridiculous on the floor, Namjoon’s passionately spitting his lines, immediately reverting to the RM that Yoongi now only recognizes from photos on the internet.

And when Jungkook’s sweet voice picks up, ringing in his ears, Yoongi almost forgets he’s supposed to go next. He’s grabbed at the waist and serenaded. His foggy mind can’t help but remember how only a little bit ago those same hands had been on his waist while his tongue was in his mouth.

It wasn’t the right place then, but it could be now. This could be it. This could be the moment Yoongi says it. Held tight, feeling secure and encouraged. But there’s so much noise, too much commotion. Thankfully, Taehyung and Jimin’s loud as fuck squealing brings him back to reality. He turns from Jungkook to pace around the living room, occasionally turning to Jungkook to smile through his lyrics every few words or dancing next to Hope.

As it ends, they all clap. And damn, Yoongi might actually tear up. Because Jimin was right. This is the last time for a while that they’ll all be together like this, doing dumb shit like this, drunk and stoned and just together like this.

“That was hot,” Taehyung says. He’s pumping his fists like a kid, eyes bright with Christmas lights. “Namjoonie, that was so hot.”

Mood ruined. Yoongi sidesteps from Namjoon as his basic functioning sputters to a stop. That is until Taehyung steps closer. Namjoon makes some incoherent sound that might be called a laugh before he wheels himself out of the room. Taehyung pauses, brows furrowed together.

“What did I do?”

“You broke him,” Yoongi answers, staring down the black hallway. Rubbing his forehead, he brushes his hand in Namjoon’s direction. “Go fix him.”

Jimin gasps, grabbing onto Jin who just looks dismayed at losing another pair of friends to love. They drop onto the couch as Jin says, “Fuck it, let’s play Mario Kart.”

Before Yoongi knows it's after midnight, he's in between Jungkook’s legs, just nodding to a song while Jungkook and Jimin argue over some discussion board post from two years ago. Gift and words still trapped inside his pocket.

“You guys look so domestic now,” Hope says, taking a seat next to the pair of them. At some point, he’d managed to create an ingestible party drink.

Yoongi glances over, a smile on his lips as Jungkook tugs him closer to hide his face in his hair. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Hope nods, shoving at Jin’s leg. “Don’t they look cute?”

Jin frowns. “Stop bringing my brother and his love life to my attention.”

Hope chuckles. “What I’m saying is, Jungkook would make a cute roommate, wouldn’t he?”

Oh damn. Yoongi thinks he would. He really would. At the same time, even as great as that sounds, that’s a big step. A very big step to consider as so much shifts in their lives in general. He doesn’t know what JUngkook would want, either. He’s not exactly clingy, but he also loves being together. And this isn’t really the place to talk about it. To talk about anything, he adds to himself. He settles for, “I don’t see how that explains your earlier comment.”

“I’m staying here,” Jungkook says quietly, so quietly maybe only Yoongi hears. Yoongi shuffles in his arms, but Jungkook has his eyes set on the floor, a clear sign he’s nervous. Honestly, his expression is somewhat dangerous with his newly trimmed hair swept off his face. More like he’s glaring, but what’s new? Plus, Jungkook clearly thought about this if he was prepared to voice his answer and deflect from facing it head-on, literally.

And he doesn’t need to say why. Yoongi will honor his decision. And he trusts Jungkook now. He’s not offended.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi says, patting his leg and sending Hope an accusatory glance for upsetting him. Hope just tips his drink back with a shrug. Jungkook’s eyes pop back up, relief and insecurity filling them. “It’s fine, Kook. I don’t think I could handle it. So stay and save money.”

“Ah, really?” He asks, still looking unsure. His eyebrows are raised too high, so obvious from his parted hair. Yoongi leans forward, kissing his lips. It’s the best way he knows to get rid of the uncertainty.

“Give me a break!” Jin groans, throwing his hands in the air. Jungkook cups Yoongi’s face, kissing him back. Jimin and Taehyung woop, and Yoongi just throws them the finger as he continues to kiss Jungkook. Yoongi’s established a breaking point for his PDA, and that’s over five hours having to watch Jungkook waltz around like a young CEO without getting more than a back hug after being mauled in the bathroom.

“Alright then!” Jin stands over them. It’s enough to have Jungkook break away to giggle shyly. “Time to go. That’s enough.”

Shit. Yoongi can’t leave yet. He still hasn’t done the thing. He scrambles, trying to think of an excuse, but Jungkook mutters, “Can I walk you home?”

“Awh,” Hope coos, leaning in to pinch both their red cheeks. “Sure you can. I’m going to hang out here a bit longer so I can drive home.”

Yoongi turns to Hope with a grateful expression. He knows Yoongi’s little plan. He had to run it by someone. So he’s a bit relieved and nods.

“Okay then, get out you horny kids,” Jin shoos them again. They stand and Yoongi’s surprised how the finality of his romantic moment completely sobers him. Jungkook also doesn’t look too tipsy, spilling more of his drinks in a kitchen fight than actually drinking them.

“Crutches?” Yoongi offers. Jungkook shakes his head, grabbing Yoongi’s hand.

“This way, we have to go slow,” Jungkook giggles. Fuck, he’s so goddamn cute.

On the sidewalk, Jungkook shoves his hands in his pockets, the fabric of his dress pants pulling on everything in just the right places. Yoongi keeps a close eye on his bad foot. Maybe also because he looks so good. The outfit makes him older and tougher with his sleeves rolled up and casually walking down the sidewalk.

“You look cool,” Yoongi comments, mirroring Jungkook’s pose.

“Really?” Jungkook asks, beaming. Even his childish smile has a smart edge to it tonight.

“Like a college graduate,” Yoongi adds.

“A community college graduate,” Jungkook corrects like a smart ass. He kicks a rock, walking in silence a bit longer. “I wanted to look cool and walk you home.”

Yoongi hums. Surprisingly, it’s the first time Jungkook’s ever walked him home. There was that one time… “Sorry I didn’t realize that’s what you were doing months ago.”

Jungkook stumbles. “You remember that?”

“I figured it out afterwards,” Yoongi says. Jungkook groans, fucking up his new hair cut. “Good thing I did because who knows how long it would’ve taken for you to ask me out.”

Jungkook stops, jaw dropped as Yoongi keeps walking with a smug face. Then, strong fingers wrench him around, chest to chest. Jungkook’s arms are practically bursting from the shirt as he exhales through his nose. “Speaking of pushing things off, I heard you have something to give me.”

“Really?” Yoongi asks, tilting his chin towards Jungkook. Dammit, he’s such a chicken. Even right now he’s playing it off, delaying. Jungkook watches his mouth, licking his lips. He deflates. “They told you.”

Jungkook nods, and he looks at Yoongi’s pocket. He did feel it before. That’s why he didn’t say anything. Yoongi wiggles his arm in between their bodies as he places a lingering kiss to Jungkook’s lips. When he pulls back, he takes a moment to appreciate Jungkook, eyes closed and lips still pursed for more. The boy who could barely get his words together around him, who’d liked him long before Yoongi knew him, who always wanted to be his best for him. Who made Yoongi the best version of himself.

As Jungkook opens his eyes, he notices the small box Yoongi holds in between them. “What’s this?” He asks, taking the package and rolling it around.

“The gift for you,” Yoongi grumbles, suddenly embarrassed now that he’s handed it over.

“This is the only graduation gift I’m getting” Jungkook muses as he bounces on his heels.

“Or, just, you know, a gift,” Yoongi tries, rubbing the back of his neck. “For you from me.”

“Oh, Hyung, that sounds serious,” Jungkook teases as he unwraps the paper to find a box underneath.

“Or maybe it’s romantic,” Yoongi tries again as Jungkook pops open the lid. There’s no retort as Jungkook just stares at the item in the box. His fingers trace over the face, then he slowly lifts it out of the box.

Yoongi takes the watch from him. Jungkook stays still, hand still held in place and eyes bugging from their sockets. “When I first started making music, no one believed in me. I told myself that I was going to make it. The first thing I wanted to do when I did was buy a Rolex. It’s stupid, I know. Some shitty rapper dream at the time. But it stuck as a goal.”

He takes Jungkook’s hand and slips the heavy metal onto his wrist. Yoongi knows he should be looking at Jungkook, but he wouldn't have the guts to keep going. “I made it. I made it to my goal. But I couldn’t have done that without you. Without any of you, but especially you. You spend a lot of time being fucking amazing. And you make me want to take the time to be fucking amazing. But I hope you know, you can also take time to be yourself. Like we've had time to be ourselves. And... And I hope we have many more rounds on this clock. Which is fucking cheesy, but, I want to give my time to you. It represents my...”

Yoongi flips the back of the watch face over before he clasps it. He hopes in the streetlight that Jungkook can read the engraving. Yoongi clicks the clasp and straightens the watch on Jungkook’s wrist, takes a deep breath, and glances up. “My love.” 

Big surprise, Jungkook’s crying. His lip trembles between his teeth, eyes crinkled with joy and welling tears. He tries to breathe in, but it shudders from his chest down to the fingers in Yoongi’s hand. He squeaks, “Your love?”

“I love you, Kook,” Yoongi says, tries to be loud and not grumble, not hide. Jungkook doesn’t deserve that. He deserves a proper confession. A romantic one. And so much more. “I love you so much. Thank you for letting me love you.”

“Thank you?” Jungkook repeats like that’s the only thing he got from what Yoongi just said. “Yoongi, I- I-”

Jungkook doesn’t have the words. Instead, he pulls Yoongi in, lips on his, tears wetting Yoongi’s cheeks as he sobs and giggles like a maniac between kisses. Yoongi cradles his face in his hands, kissing him back, tasting Jungkook’s feelings, breathing in his declaration, knowing it’s in his very being, that he doesn’t need to use words. Yoongi believes him and trusts him. Yoongi has him just as much as Jungkook has him.

And Yoongi’s laughing, too. They’re just kissing at the edge of the apartment complex, giggling into each other’s mouths, holding each other close, like the lovesick idiots they are.

“Wait,” Jungkook says as he wipes at his wet eyes. His lips pout big enough for his buck teeth to peek through. “This means you made the move first, _again_.”

Yoongi snorts, taking Jungkook’s hand and starting to walk towards his place. “It’s okay, you gave me a handjob first.”

Jungkook groans, being dragged along to Yoongi’s doorstep. “That’s not romantic!”

“Says the boy who won’t fuck me til his foot’s better for the sake of romance,” Yoongi chides. Jungkook giggles at that. He keeps giggling at the idea of sex like a little kid. Yoongi pulls him back in, hands on his waist as they stand at the door. They kiss again, then stand there on the doormat, feet shuffling. Yoongi can’t go in. Going in means no more Jungkook, and he’s thinking the same thing.

“Next Tuesday,” Jungkook says. Yoongi blushes. The day Jungkook gets his stitches out. “You’ll come down?”

“Don’t be a dumbass, of course I will,” Yoongi mumbles. He’s not sure how Jungkook classifies romantic. Planning sex is definitely not romantic. Jungkook smiles, laying his arms over Yoongi's shoulders. He just keeps smiling at Yoongi, his own shoulders up to his ears. “What?”

Jungkook smiles bigger. He folds his arms around Yoongi, kissing him again. It’s softer, slow, savoring the last kisses for the next day or two. Yoongi lets him lead, leaning into Jungkook. He’s working tomorrow, so he won’t see him off. He needs to feel as much Jungkook as he can for now because he knows what a clingy bastard he can be without him.

Jungkook pauses, pressing his forehead to Yoongi’s. He scratches at the back of Yoongi’s scalp, sighing. “Goodnight, Hyung. I love you.”

The air in Yoongi’s lungs is eaten by the fire that burns through his chest. He nods. “Love you, too.”

“I love you,” Jungkook says again. Yoongi fists at Jungkook’s shirt. He knows he said it first, but hearing it directed at him makes him shy. Like he knows, Jungkook repeats, “I love you.”

“Are you broken?” Yoongi deflects, hiding in Jungkook’s neck. He’s burning up even more than he was in the summer sun.

“Yeah, I was on crutches a few hours ago,” Jungkook giggles.

“Okay, fuck you. I’m going in,” Yoongi slides off Jungkook a bit unwillingly, especially when he protests. He pulls at Yoongi’s hoodie until he turns around for one more kiss goodnight.

* * *

Yoongi’s packed over a dozen boxes. He’s walked the stairs over 50 times. He’s counted out cash to so many different people he’s not sure if he’ll have any left.

And out of all those numbers, Jungkook has texted him _i love you_ more than that.

It’s sweet as fuck.

When Yoongi pulls his phone from his pocket after the last box is in the truck, he’s prepared to hide his blush again, but what he sees sends the blood rushing elsewhere.

_Kook_

_checkup next tuesday_

_cum over after_

_lol get it_

_love u_

If he rolls his eyes at that dumbass joke, he might pass out.

“Woah there,” Hope says because apparently Yoongi does look a little faint. He’s going to get laid. Finally, fucking finally. Next Tuesday. Clear his schedule. Buy the bus pass. Nothing will stop him this time.

Though, saying nothing is pretty risky after what stopped them last time.

Getting up into the rented truck, Yoongi and Hope take a minute to take in the scene before they travel to their new place. That apartment had been with them through a lot. Sure, it was trashy, which was a given since they could rent month-to-month. But they’d had countless smoke sessions on the couch. There were burn marks on the floor they’d never get out. Yoongi’s music career had bloomed in that tiny bedroom. He’d spent countless hours curled up in Hope’s room after his own was drenched in stress and frustration. He even had a few, okay maybe more than a few, good memories of having people over. Now, they were packing up and heading somewhere new. Yoongi wasn’t a fan of change he didn’t work for. But knowing that no matter where he went he will still have Hope, his career, and Jungkook… that is enough for him.

“You ready?” He asks Hope, always the more sentimental of the two especially since he’s the reason for the move. Hope sighs, turning back to the road with a thin-lipped smile. He readies the key in the ignition.

With a deep breath, he turns to Yoongi with a beaming smile. “Off on a grand adventure, aren’t we?”

Yoongi smiles back sympathetically. He knows Hope still feels guilty. They’re leaving because of him. But as he said, it’s just a place. They’ve still got their life and their friends. He goes to say as much, but the truck roars to life. It jolts, so Yoongi grabs on for dear life. “It is only two towns over, don’t make this an adventure.”

“Awh, you’re no fun,” Hope pouts as the truck almost tips on the turn to the main road. Yoongi’s starting to doubt he’ll live to make those new memories, but he still slaps the dashboard and cheers as they hit the highway.

* * *

Yoongi bangs on the door to Jungkook and Jin’s house when it’s locked. Surprising; they never locked it nor really needed to unless someone wanted a sofa, beer, or some strange chef contraptions only Jin knew how to use for food and Kook knew for weapons.

_Yoongi_

_Yo_

_Who are you trying to fight off?_

_Kook_

_u_

_lol_

Yoongi frowns at the screen. He did have to get a bus pass to come here. And conveniently, everyone decided to meet up on this day anyways. It had been a week since Hope and Yoongi had moved, and apparently that is just too long for everyone to be apart. He’s not in the mood for Jungkook’s games. He’s on a time limit and he’s in the mood for just Jungkook.

_Yoongi_

_Cool I’m going then_

_Thanks for making me burn the calories_

_Kook_

_WAIT_

_jiggle it_

Yoongi looks down at the doorknob. He jiggles it. He hears the click, and the door is open. Seriously?

_Yoongi_

_Why can’t you come to the door?_

_Kook_

_u that lazy?_

_grandpa_

Yoongi pushes the door open, listening to the creak to see if he hears anything else in the place. He makes a mental note again not to leave anything at their place.

“Yo,” he calls out through the apartment, falling onto the couch. Honestly, he’s not sure what to fucking do. He knows why he’s here. But he’s not sure if they are going to have a fancy dinner or some shit. That would be a romantic Jungkook thing, right?

“Back here!” Kook’s voice comes from his room. Yoongi swats at his own neck, fed up that he can feel it heating up thinking of Jungkook in his room.

“What, do you need help?” Yoongi groans as he hoists himself up and out of his jacket.

“Yeah, sure, come back here,” Jungkook laughs nervously. What has he gotten himself into? Maybe his foot is acting up again. Yoongi is not a thoughtless asshole who really just felt a little disappointed at that idea.

“Look, I’m down to help but if you are stuck on the toi-” Yoongi’s words launch from his throat as he’s flung into Jungkook’s room and thrown back into the door. Instinctively, he squeezes his eyes shut as a thud sounds on either side of him. His heart races out of his chest, his fists balled around his waist.

“Surprise,” Jungkook whispers. Yoongi’s hands unravel from their petty attempt at protecting him.

“What the he-” his words fall short again when he opens his eyes. Jungkook stands in front of him, inches from his face. Of course, he’d known that before he opened his eyes. He didn’t know Jungkook is shirtless. Hair styled. Looking like a fucking model in a magazine. Entire body inches from him, palms spread on either side of the door, big, dark eyes hooded as he looks down at Yoongi. 

“Hell,” Yoongi finishes in his attempts to make any kind of comment. His eyes scatter downwards, taking in what he’d barely touched in days. He catches a glimpse of the clean room and a few lit candles. Being pinned to a bedroom door is a weird idea of romance but there’s no way Yoongi’s gonna complain now.

“Hyung,” his voice is so low. Jungkook’s shoulders flex as he leans down to Yoongi’s level. Yoongi’s barely able to hold against the brown pools brimming with excitement. He swallows hard, realizing _this_ is his for the millionth time. Jungkook smirks. It isn’t the cute, nose-scrunching smile Yoongi had fought to see. It’s a twitch of the lip, a subtle chuckle as his tongue darts over his lip. “I’m all better.”

Such a cheesy line brings Yoongi back to focus. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I can clearly see that,” he sniffs. But he can’t keep looking at that cocky expression. Maintain some goddamn composure, you horny bastard.

Jungkook cups his cheek, a chaste kiss gracing his lips. Yoongi follows his pull back. He’s fine admitting how much he misses kissing Jungkook. His fluttering eyes catch the slightest twitch to Kook’s lips again, his chest rising and falling. He wants more.

Yoongi tries again for a kiss, but Jungkook holds him back. Instead, he rolls into him, warm body pressing him up against the door, and holy shit. It’s hot. It’s super hot. And then he’s back. Yoongi’s head presses firmly, yet gently, into the back of the door as Kook slots their lips together. Their noses trade off time as they move between each other, Yoongi reaching up to grip Kook’s arms and push back into him, falling into the motions. Back to normal, no longer feeling awkward when they’re together like this. If anything, he feels hungry. A little desperate if he’s being honest. When he grabs at Jungkook’s shoulders, Jungkook’s hands fall to his neck and press lightly.

Jungkook presses his thigh between Yoongi’s buckled knees. That overwhelming confidence Jungkook gets is starting to make him dizzy already. He hesitates for the slightest second and tries to recover, pressing against Jungkook again, pleased with the flutter of his eyes. “You… you know… You have a bed for a reason.”

“Hyung,” the word is teasing. Jungkook wraps his arms around him and falls back onto his bed, not missing a beat.

Yoongi laces their fingers together and pins Jungkook. He appreciates the flex and curve of Jungkook’s arms as they stretch above his head, but he doesn’t appreciate the dumb smirk back on his lips as he flexes on purpose now. Yoongi dives down to suck on Jungkook’s neck, pleased at the whine he gets, imagining the smirk wiping off his stupid gorgeous face. His hands scamper down Jungkook’s sides as he scoots back.

Leaning back on Jungkook’s middle, he grinds down. Shit, he missed this. Jungkook lets out a hiss and grips onto Yoongi’s thighs.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Jungkook whispers, fingers sinking into his skin as he rocks a bit harder.

“Yeah, you’ve been holding up the ride” Yoongi snuffs, his hands digging into Jungkook’s waistband. He, for one, is done waiting. Jungkook gasps and Yoongi rolls his thumb over the button, pulling his jeans apart with a tug. Jungkook’s covers his desperate eyes and drops to the bed as Yoongi drags the material down until his cock springs free.

“Shy now?” Yoongi tsks, but his voice is already hoarse at the sight of Jungkook almost nude.

“Hyung stop,” Jungkook mumbles, arms over his face. “Of course, it’s you.”

“Okay,” Yoongi stops his hands and leans back on his heels.

“What?” Jungkook snaps up on his elbows with a frown. “Not funny.”

“I thought it was,” Yoongi runs a hand from Jungkook’s chest down to his waist again and lightly brushes his long fingers over his cock. It’s not that he’s trying to be funny. It’s that he’s feeling a bit like a wimp. He’s on Jungkook’s lap fucking with the foreplay before they finally, actually have sex. He’s nervous. He’s allowed to be nervous. 

“I’m kind of nervous,” Yoongi whispers, hand squeezing over Jungkook’s cock. It’s something he never would have admitted before in this situation. But when Jungkook is always so honest, it’s easy.

Jungkook coughs with an arch of his spine, words in his throat as Yoongi squeezes again. “Me, too. I jerked off before you came just cause I thought I’d blow my load too quick.”

Yoongi tilts his head, noticing there is something missing. His usual nerves, that oddly-fond constipation of trying to hold it together. Christ, Jungkook’s one weakness has been removed and Yoongi’s even more jittery. But it’s still Jungkook. His Jungkook, goddammit.

“You gonna last forever then?” Yoongi asks, grabbing the hem of his shirt.

“Uh-huh,” Jungkook nods quickly, curling up to trace his fingers over the skin as it’s revealed. He shudders as rough fingertips trace his ribs. Jungkook marvels over Yoongi’s bare skin. Then, he presses soft lips to his ribs. His chest. His collarbones. The edge of his jaw. It’s so… endearing. Yoongi shudders as Jungkook kisses the corner of his lips, just appreciating the touch of skin. He holds Jungkook’s face in his hands, brushing the hair out of his eyes, and tries to kiss him just as tenderly.

Jungkook sighs like he needed it, like he couldn’t go on without it. And that just blows Yoongi’s mind. That someone could appreciate him that way and need him so much. Jungkook lowers back to the bed, taking Yoongi with him, their hips rolling as they just… connect.

Yoongi shifts back. He knows to keep going. He continues down Jungkook’s legs, kissing at his hips and thighs as he pulls the pants all the way down. He has to pause when he sees Jungkook’s feet.

“You’re wearing shoes,” Yoongi states. Jungkook nods. “You invited me over here to fuck, and you put shoes on?”

Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s the aesthetic.”

“Converse,” Yoongi huffs. He starts yanking at the laced-up shoes. “God, now I really hate Converse.” 

“I, Hyung,” Jungkook stutters as he’d laid bare. He avoids Yoongi’s gaze when their eyes meet, and Yoongi crawls back up his body. Face inches from Jungkook’s. For a moment, Yoongi’s concerned Jungkook has lost interest, or it’s too far, and he’s overshot his objective. But Jungkook’s big brown eyes turn to look at him.

“Hey,” Yoongi pets his cheek. “Something wrong?”

“You taking all my clothes off first and… this isn’t what I expected,” Jungkook says, biting his lip. “I… I’m usually in charge.”

“In charge?” Yoongi pulls back to look in both his eyes. Jungkook chews his lip and nods at his lap. “Is that… are you using some kinda millennial slang for being a top again?” Jungkook shrugs shyly, not looking at all like someone “in charge.” Yoongi leans back and laughs, but Jungkook inhales sharply as Yoongi’s laugh vibrates through him onto his exposed dick.

“Jungkook, that’s fine,” Yoongi smiles down at him. Jungkook is still biting his lips. “We talked about this. We are good to go. But, if it’s okay, if it’s what you mean by in charge, I wanna ride you.”

“Yeah?” He asks. Greedy hands grab at Yoongi’s thighs. There’s the Jungkook he’s used to in this bed. “That would be hot, Hyung.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Yoongi chuckles, rolling his hips back down. This time Jungkook holds his gaze with dark eyes, tightening his hands on Yoongi’s hips. “I’m also concerned your massive thighs will pound into me so hard you’ll break me in half.”

“That is also hot,” Jungkook grunts. He sits up and scoots back to the headboard. Christ, even slouched over he still has abs. They kiss like that, grinding and kissing and getting back in the moment from before. Eventually, Jungkook reaches down to fumble with Yoongi’s pants. He awkwardly pulls them down each leg. Once off, Jungkook’s grabbing and molding their skin together. Yoongi’s burning from feeling Jungkook. His cock rubs under his thigh, his own tucked between their stomachs.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispers into Yoongi’s mouth. He moans back into Jungkook’s mouth, hand firmly gripping the back of his bed as their tongues twist. Jungkook’s hands knead at his ass while he kisses his neck and traces a finger over his rim. Yoongi freezes, feeling his face heating at the vulnerability.

“Kook,” he stutters out. Jungkook mutters an incoherent response and nudges at his rim again. Yoongi pants, “Jesus, wait, you have to warn me before you do that.”

Jungkook immediately stops. The wet lips, the blown eyes, and the flushed cheeks make it hard for him to sound sincere when he gasps, “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Yoongi urges. He didn’t realize how gone he was until he was ripped back to reality, his words sounding rushed and affected. He tries to find a good position on Jungkook’s hips. “I don’t need to be opened up.

“You don’t?” Jungkook breathes like he just found a national secret. Yoongi shakes his head. He’s not willing to repeat something like that again. “Holy shit.”

Yoongi blushes, knowing that it is, in fact, a gift he has. Jungkook glances between them. “So… now we can…?”

“Condom?” Yoongi asks with a tilt of the head.

Jungkook nods to his nightstand where he has a neatly organized set of condoms, lube, and tissues at the ready. Yoongi slides the condom on and lazily rubs his hand up and down, smiling at Jungkook’s panting face, blushed cheeks, and tensed neck.

“Lube?” he asks next.

“Hyung, this feels like a doctor’s exam,” Jungkook whines as he grabs the bottle. He’s right. It feels… stiff.

“Okay, yeah. Um.” Yoongi stares at the lube bottle. Christ, he sounds like a dumbass preteen. “It’s just-- I mean, I’m still nervous. We are going to fuck.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook whispers.

“Okay, that’s right.”

Jungkook giggles suddenly, holding Yoongi closer. It catches him off guard, not sure if he should feel put out. But then Jungkook kisses him and says, “It’s kind of cute seeing you nervous for once.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbles with a settling breath. Dumb. He’s being dumb. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

“Yeah?”

Yoongi stares at the ceiling. He just told himself he could be honest with Jungkook. He needed to talk. “Yeah, because… I don’t think, I’ve ever…” he strokes the lube over Jungkook’s cock, reaching behind himself as well. “I’ve never done this with someone I loved.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, but some sound between a groan and a sob garbles in his throat. He stretches his arms out for Yoongi to come back to him. “I love you.”

Yoongi can’t help but smile. He scoots forward, the warmth of his boyfriend’s embrace surrounding him like the thrumming of both their anxious hearts. He leans in to kiss Jungkook as he steadies himself. The nerves melt away as Yoongi remembers that yeah, this is scary to do with someone that he cares this much about, but that’s why he wants to do it. No matter what, it’ll be great. And not just because Jungkook is great, but because it’s them.

Thank god he didn’t say that out loud because he may never live down the horror of what a sappy shit he’s become.

Jungkook’s kisses become needy, drowning with Yoongi’s thoughts. They’re so meticulous in the way they mold to Yoongi’s that he almost forgets to lower himself down. But when he does, Yoongi’s jaw drops as Jungkook’s dick fills him up. He moves his hips, slowly adjusting to the fit, knuckles going white on Jungkook’s headboard. The younger boy screws his face up, holding his breath.

“Fuck,” Yoongi moans as Jungkook bottoms out. He rubs his thighs back and forth.

“You ready?” Jungkook whispers in a large exhale. Yoongi peaks an eye open at Jungkook. He is staring down at where Yoongi is seated now, hands rubbing up and down his waist. When he looks up, his eyes are dark and brows set. He looks determined. Yoongi’s stomach warms and he can only nod.

Jungkook smiles up at him and gives one soft thrust up. Yoongi keens forward with a loud moan. Jungkook snaps up again. Yoongi braces on Jungkook’s shoulders, gritting out, “Let me do it.” 

“Sorry, sorry, does it hurt? I just, wow, it’s so, wow,” JUngkook gasps and pants, placing kisses wherever he can. Jungkook’s flurry of concerns are a stark contrast to how he’s stretching him open. He shakes his head, cupping JUngkook’s face. As he sinks down slowly again, he holds Jungkook’s lips to his, eyes squeezed close and focusing on the pleasure.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook’s voice mumbles against Yoongi’s mouth. His hands search his skin for something to cling to. A groan cuts from so deep in his chest that it rumbles in his stomach. Yoongi shivers, the friction of his cock against Jungkook each time he rises and falls exactly what he needs. He moans again as he opens his eyes when Jungkook calls him again. Jungkook’s jaw is tensed, still open, eyebrows scrunched and staring up at him with something other than determination- adoration. “You’re beautiful,”

In any other circumstance, Yoongi would scoff. Comment on how he’s supposed to be pretty. But now, he leans in, crashing his lips to Jungkook’s as he meets each of his thrusts, moaning into his mouth when JUngkook can’t help but buck up into him. He grinds back and forth, almost crying when Jungkook reaches down to form a loose fist around his dick. Head on his shoulder, Jungkook mouths at Yoongi’s neck. “You sound so pretty,” Jungkook mutters into his skin, his hot breath causing Yoongi’s hips to stutter.

Yoongi can’t do much but grind against Jungkook as he pumps up into him, holding Yoongi’s ass for leverage. It’s lewd, the slap of their hips and the ever-higher pitch of their moans and whines, but dammit if Yoongi isn’t overcome with emotion. That he’s here, finally, and everything that got him here, and who he’s with.

“I love you,” Yoongi gets out between stunted breaths, running his fingers in Jungkook’s hair where he muffles his whimpers. “Love you.”

Jungkook’s hips stutter, cursing under his breath before he’s tucking into Yoongi’s neck, rocking faster, gripping tighter, like he can’t control it anymore.

“Love you,” Jungkook pants. Yoongi spins with love, pleasure, and dizziness as Jungkook grabs under his thighs and flips him. He barely pulls out before he is shoving back in. Yoongi grips both his thighs, crying out. “God, love how pretty you are, love how you sound, love it all.”

Jungkook continues to shift until Yoongi cries out in a choked sob. But it’s so euphoric, the sensation of his dick trapped between their damp skin as Jungkook pistons in and his lips curling in a smile of disbelief at just how fucking good this is. A championed smile spreads across Jungkook’s lips as Yoongi wraps his own fist around his dick, chanting Jungkook’s name. He’d never understood why people do that, but now, it’s all he fucking wants. To feel, hear, smell, speak Jungkook goddammit.

“Let me,” Jungkook breathes, leaning back to take Yoongi’s cock in his hand. Yoongi whines, about to cover his face in embarrassment of what’s to come, tingling in his gut and up his spine, but Jungkook stops him, holding his hand away. Before Yoongi can even protest, his orgasm rushes through him. He curls off the bed, breath sucked in before the most broken sound leaves him. He digs his nails into Jungkook’s hand, immediately oversensitive to every touch. 

Jungkook’s groan sounds filled with relief as he grits his teeth when Yoongi tightens around him. He crashes down on either side of Yoongi as his hips stutter, still stroking the last of his orgasm as he shakes on top of him. They’re a mess of gasps and grunts and soft laughs as they both come down.

Yoongi wraps him up in his arms. He holds him close as he waits for it to happen. The sheer, raw emotion of Jungkook that draws him in deeper. The exhausted shaking turns into trembling, and he feels the tears on his cheek.

Yoongi rubs his cheek against Jungkook’s, pressing kisses where he can. When Yoongi tries to get a good look at the man who just fucked his brains out, Jungkook locks him in place with a strong grip.

“Seriously? This again? You watched me cum, but I can’t see you cry?” Yoongi pouts, wiggling his ass. Jungkook chokes, his cock still inside. When Yoongi clenches, Jungkook finally lifts himself enough to place gentle kisses across Yoongi’s skin as he pulls out. Jungkook’s eyes are already ringed red, his eyebrows drawn, lips jutted in a pout. But his eyes still burn black, eyes hooded, lips kiss bitten. Damn Yoongi for giggling.

“Don’t laugh!” Jungkook rolls over to hide in Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi nods, trying to ebb his chuckling. After a moment, Jungkook squirms closer to whisper in his ear, “I love you.”

Yoongi’s cheeks blush. He’s lying in bed with his boyfriend, after a good fuck, trading such sweet words, but this is making him blush the hardest. It’s weird in a nice way. “I love you, too.”

“I love you,” Jungkook immediately responds, those red eyes blinking quickly as Jungkook tries to stave off more tears. Yoongi leans in, pressing a light kiss to his lips, whispering love over and over. Here, he’s fine being honest and raw when Jungkook’s being so earnest.

As their breathing calms down, Jungkook lays on his back to tie the condom. “Bet you four bucks I can make it in that trash can,” Jungkook says. Wow, that’s seriously the same boy who just cried over an orgasm. Now turning his cum bag into a bet.

“Four bucks?” Yoongi asks.

“It’s all I have,” Jungkook says with a fling. Conveniently, it lands in the can. Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Four bucks,” Just minutes after his eyes were black with lust, Jungkook smiles down at him with a big bunny smile. Yoongi stares up at him. There are so many sides to Jungkook. There’s probably still more for Yoongi to see. He’s ready for it. He’s ready for all of it. Jungkook’s smile fades.

“Hyung?” He asks, propping on his elbow next to Yoongi.

Yoongi dodges and readjusts on the bed to be comfortable on the pillows. “I didn’t agree to a bet.” 

Jungkook’s smile returns and he wraps an arm around Yoongi, tucking him into his side. Yoongi feels hyper-aware of his own body, feeling small against Jungkook’s large embrace around him. Pink still dusts his cheeks and he can feel his ears tinting at the realization that they’re naked like he hadn’t noticed before. He grabs Jungkook’s fingers and laces his hands through. They lay there, Yoongi tracing designs on Jungkook’s hand, staring down at their conjoined fingers over Jungkook’s stomach, enjoying the moment. He even starts to doze off to the gentle rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest. He thinks he’d be fine staying in this room forever.

Jungkook nudges him with his nose.

“What?” Yoongi asks, eyes still closed.

“Hyung, I… I have a question,” Jungkook murmurs against his skin. The set of his jaw makes his question seem more like a challenge.

“Okay?” Yoongi half asks. He feels Jungkook’s grip on his hand tighten.

“Can I…” Yoongi opens his eyes slowly, propping his chin on Jungkook’s chest. The boy fumbles, shaking his head suddenly. “Nevermind.”

“No,” Yoongi says flatly. “No neverminds after we just fucked. Christ, the anxiety.”

Jungkook throws an arm over his face. “Okay, um. Can I… take a picture?”

A fucking what? “Are you serious?”

“Well!” Jungkook props up, causing Yoongi to bend at a funny angle. “The first time I saw you! And then, the first date… and um, now it’s the first time and you look so fucked ou-”

“Stop!” Yoongi holds a hand to Jungkook’s mouth, not wanting to hear it voiced. He plops onto a pillow, tucking a hand under his head and curling up small as he pulls the covers over his lower half. He feels covered enough. “Okay, now, fine.”

Jungkook lunges over the bed and grabs the camera. “Did you have it ready?” Yoongi exclaims.

“Hyung, you don’t look natural,” Jungkook complains behind the Nikon as he ignores Yoongi’s question. Which means obviously, yes.

“How can I-” Yoongi huffs, closing his eyes. He hears the click. Dumbass boyfriend and his creepy romantic shit.

_Clank._

Yoongi’s eyes fly open. That’s not a sound Jungkook’s camera makes. And he knows it, too. Jungkook’s already turned towards the door. They both look back at each other.

“No,” Yoongi says.

“God, please, no,” Jungkook whines, dropping to the bed.

“No fucking way,” Yoongi is already scrambling over Jungkook’s body. He can hear it now, the shushing outside. He grabs one of Jungkook’s massive shirts and starts tugging on his shorts.

“No, don’t do that,” Jungkook whines, rolling over and still in bed. “You look too good in my shirt, come back.”

“I’mma go murder someone first,” Yoongi says with a smile and a wink. Jungkook deflates into a burning hot mess as Yoongi yanks the door open and storms into the living room.

Five pairs of eyes turn to him at once. Almost everyone looks caught in the act. Everyone except one very, very uncomfortable older brother with his fingers in his ears.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Yoongi grits out.

“Oh, hi! What a coincidence,” Taehyung starts, waving to everyone. “We, uh, thought we would meet here since the chicken place is nearby, and what do you know, you and Jungkook were already here, having a good-” Hope jabs Taehyung “-uh, already here so we thought we’d you know, wait!”

“Yeah, wait for our turn,” Jimin jumps in with an evil cackle. Jin shoves him so hard he falls off the couch. Yoongi stands there, wiping a hand down his face. From the side, Namjoon and Hope give him a thumbs up. Kill him now.

“Okay then,” Yoongi says. He’s not sure what else to say. He was prepared to murder one of them. But all five of them? Fuck this. He turns on his heel, stomps back to Jungkook’s room, and slams the door.

“Hyung?” Jungkook asks, looking like a god in his tanned skin draped in white sheets. Yoongi locks the door and shucks his clothes to relieve the heat of embarrassment overtaking him. Jungkook now looks like a very nervous god in white sheets. Yoongi slides under the covers, curling into Jungkook’s side who happily welcomes him. “Who’s out there?”

“Damn near everyone.”

“Everyone?” Jungkook squeaks.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yoongi says. He can feel Jungkook’s eyes on him, so he just throws a leg over him to bring him closer as he brushes their noses together, knowing his face must be red hot. He gives Jungkook a stern look. “We aren’t fucking leaving this room. Fucking. Ever. Never again now.”

Jungkook watches him for a moment, but then a big, goofy grin bursts over his face. That boyish grin that always has Yoongi’s heart aflutter, only a breath away, and his for the taking. Jungkook cups his jaw, nodding with a kiss only he can take now. Yoongi wraps around him, skin on skin, and it’s the greatest high Yoongi’s ever had, and maybe, if he’s being fucking honest, the only one he’ll ever need.

# The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Wow... it's weird finally writing this end note. The last end note :( Thank you to everyone who has read until this point. Especially thank you to those of you who have commented, once, twice, or on every chapter. You really, truly kept me motivated with this story. I've said a few times how it was only 3 chapters about two hot stoners who banged after some miscommunication and drug-deal-gone-wrong. I didn't expect it to be this massive idiots-to-lovers story. I'm glad it became what it did. I hope you enjoyed it :,)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think :)


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